


Thorns of Rosenberg

by Kyzaiah



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Childe/Sire Bond(s), Dark, Episode: s03e08 Lovers Walk, Family Dynamics, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Kidnapping, Mental Health Issues, No Smut, Not Beta Read, Prophecy, Recovery, Repressed Memories, Serious Injuries, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-01-08 07:03:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 33,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21231737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyzaiah/pseuds/Kyzaiah
Summary: As if being dumped by Drusilla wasn't enough. A few bad decisions and an ancient curse make Spike's return to Sunnydale one he wont ever forget.Dark content within but also light-heartedness and wholesome relationships.Warnings noted by chapter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I did it again. New story idea came to me and I couldn't sleep until I had a first chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for alcoholism, mild violence and non/dub con themes

First thing she noticed was how dry her lips felt. Her tongue flicked outside her mouth and over the rough cracked surface. How did she get so dehydrated? 

It wasn't the only sign she needed water. Her head was pounding and limbs felt heavy. This happened every once in a while to her. It was always impossible to sleep when she needed a drink. Still leaving her eyes closed she propped herself on her elbows in bed. It creaked much too loudly under her.

_ What? When did my bed start creaking? _

She forced herself up the rest of the way through the noise and rubbed her eyes to wake them up. When they opened she almost screamed. This was not home. This was not her warm bed. This was the set of a low budget horror film. 

Slowly it came back to her. Meeting Xander at school for the de-lusting spell. The resulting argument. Spike crashing into the science room. Him threatening her into doing a spell. He kidnapped the both of them, her going reluctantly after he hit Xander over the head.

_ Xander! _

She rushed to find him where he had been thrown rag-doll against the bed. He wasn't bleeding but he still wasn't awake. Willow dragged him into her lap hopeful that it wouldn't worsen the concussion he probably had. She ran a hand through his hair. The action was half checking for open wounds, half calming herself with the familiar feeling. There was no way of knowing how long she'd been out. Consequently there was no way to know how long Xander had been unconscious. When had she even fallen asleep? She couldn't remember.

Or maybe she hadn't fallen asleep so much as passed out. She drew a hesitant hand from Xander's hair to her neck. A wince and her fears were answered. Under her fingers were two sore puncture wounds.

_ Great, not only am I hopelessly trapped, but I've become a vampire chew toy too. _

All other thoughts disappeared when her best friend stirred in her arms. "Oh my god Xander! Are you okay? Do you know who I am? What day is it?"

"Willow?" His voice was hesitant as his eyes flickered open. "I can't really see in this light but that's you holding me right?" When her words sunk in his tone changed to one she was more familiar with. "How could I forget who you are Wills? I'm not _ that _ stupid." She watched as he brought a hand up to his forehead and again closed his unfocused eyes. "The day is Saturday I think but that would depend on how long I've been out. Ow doesn't really cover it."

She drew him in and hugged him close. _ He's alive he's okay. I'm not alone. _ The relief she felt was palpable.

"Not to ruin the moment but do you think you could let me down slowly? The sudden movement made me want to puke."

"Oh! Sorry Xan." She lowered him until he rested on the bed instead of I'm her arms. "I'm so glad you are awake, I was really worried about you."

"Yeah me too." He turned his head but his eyes looked no more focused than before. "Where are we? And could you maybe turn on a light?"

"Not sure what to do about light but I think we are in the old factory. Remember how Spike came an-"

"Spike! That bleach brain. Where did he go?"

"Out to get what I needed to do a love spell for him I think. I didn't see him leave so I have no idea how long he's been gone."

"Did he take the light with him too?"

"No, there was a candle I'm pretty sure. It must have burnt out." It was strange to her that Xander couldn't see. She was doing just fine with only the moonlight flittering through the rubble above them. Maybe his injury was worse than she assumed. "Let me see if I can find it."

Once she was standing by the ash covered vanity it didn't take long to find a candle. The difficult part was finding something to light it with. "You don't happen to have matches do you Xander?"

Shuffling sounds made her turn around to watch him as he blindly checked his pockets. "Found some." She ran quickly over and kneeled by the side of the bed. He handed over the small book and she turned it over in her hands. The white cover had black writing on it that said 'The Strange Stange'. "Thank God for alcoholic father's am I right?"

So this was from a bar then. Xander's laughter broke quickly down into coughs. "Hey don't push yourself." She put a hand on his chest and pressed him back down into the bed. "Let me light the candle and I'll be right back okay?"

"Yeah that sounds good."

Orange flame sparked to life as she struck wood to the chemical strip of the book. Seconds passed and she had the wick lit. The base of the candle was melted right into the wooden surface beneath it. 

_ Stupid goth vampire decor. _

Not seeing much else she could do she broke the taper off from its base and carried it over to the bedside.

"Hey" Xander's greeting smile was warm but weary. "I can see you."

She simply smiled at him. Concerns she had about how loopy he was firmly in the back of her mind. For her sanity if not for his.

The door to upstairs slammed against the wall, sounding out in the open space. She whipped around to see Spike less than a foot from her, eyes wide and a paper bag pressed up to his body in one arm.

"I thought I-" He started but shook his head without finishing the thought. His bag touched ground with the clear clacking of glass bottles. "Made any progress on that spell red?"

She could only imagine he meant her. "I told you I need that book."

"Like hell I'm grabbing you a book from the Slayer's. Say what you want but I'm not so bloody thick I'd fall for that trap."

"I can't do the spell without it. I'm not a full fledged witch and this isn't an easy spell."

"If you can't do it then what good are you to me?" With a growl he lunged forward and grabbed her arms. When he looked at her neck his eyes widened almost imperceptibly before smiling. "Maybe I should just finish off my little snack then." He vamped and she went rigid in the same second. Her eyes were pressed closed to the point of pain and dancing lights.

"Leave her alone!"

_ Xander! Xander is awake he can help save me! Wait, no he couldn't he was hurt. _

Spike let her go with a push backwards. She tumbled ungracefully into a piece of furniture behind her. When she looked up she could see Xander leaning on one elbow, his eyes staring defiantly at their captor.

"She told you what she needed so either get it or stop complaining bleach for brains."

"I think she just needs a little better motivation." He grabbed Xander by the collar and leaned in close to his neck. "How would you feel if I kill your boyfriend first?"

"Don't" she spoke so quietly in her fear that she was surprised he heard her.

"Hm? What's that? You remember how to do the spell?"

"I remember I swear! I'll do the spell just please don't hurt him any worse."

"Alright then." Without any hint of gentleness he threw Xander back onto the bed. She could tell immediately that he was out again. "Get to it."

He walked over to his bag and pulled out a bottle of Jack. Situating himself on top of the dresser he twisted off the cap and started the night's drinking. Willow gathered up everything he took from the lab including a notebook he assumed must be her Grimoire. This was the original plan. Get the girl, do the spell, get back his woman. Time to stick to it. Yet he grimaced as he watched her.

_ What the hell happened last night? _

When he woke up tonight, she was sleeping like a corpse. He had memories of the night but none of them matched up with how the bint was acting today. He leaned back and tried to run his mind through it all one more time while he stood guard.

_-_-_-_-_-_

The red headed witch was going to do this. She was going to right the wrongs. Make his dark goddess his again. And if she didn't... He took a deep swig to finish off the meager amount of spirits he had left then smashed the bottle against their old bedpost.

"Lie to me and I'll shove this through your face! You want that? Right through to your brain!"

The anger that came with his threat was fleeting. It used to fill him up. Blind him in a bloody rage. He could slaughter a whole town with Dru and thoroughly shag her into the blood filled streets before calming down. He had done it time and time again, and it was always brilliant. But all that was gone now. 

"She wouldn't even kill me." He sat down heavily beside the girl he stole, voice catching in his throat. "She just left. She didn't even care enough to cut my head off or set me on fire." He told the Willow girl his whole sob story. Alcohol did that to him. Made him a motor mouth poofter.

He took one hand and ran it against the cropped red hair of the witch. The smallest of things felt wonderful when sloshed. The smell that hit him as hair flipped off her neck was intoxicatingly sweet. He grabbed her by the base of the fiery strands and let his fangs fall. "I haven't had a woman in weeks."

"Whoa! No! Hold it!" She jumped up from him putting distance between them as quickly as was possible for her. It wasn't very fast. He could easily get her again whenever he wanted.

"Well, unless you count that shopkeeper." He didn't really count her. She was far from a nice veal. Not like Willow here. He stood up and looked at the girl who could so easily become prey. She was so scared she could barely stand.

"Now, now, hold on! I-I'll do your spell for you, and, and, and I'll get you Drusilla back, but, but there will be no bottle-in-face, and there will be no 'having' of any kind with me. Alright?" 

He was tempted, he could admit that, just not to her.

"Bugger all that, I want this and I want it now." He wasted no time closing the distance between them. Fangs cut through the skin on her neck like it was butter. Her screaming just made the dark elixir come faster. After a few sips he drew back. "God you taste almost as good as a Slayer." Maybe it was just the state of his meals for the past week but he meant it. She tasted amazing.

He tossed her back into the bed and watched the springs bounce her as she tried to regain her balance. When he knew she was aware enough of what had happened and where she was he pounced back over her. Fear tasted better when they knew just how lost they were.

He was so close that he couldn't smell anything besides the dismay rolling off of her. He gazed down her body before letting a finger trail the path. "This fluffy pink number is real tempting." He teased at the collar of her sweater then took the same hand, over her clothes, down a path between her breasts. He finished by tucking the digit just under the waistband of her jeans and snapping it against her when he let go. "I think I'll taste all of you. Just to let you know that I can." The words came out more like a promise than a threat. He licked his lips then leaned forward over her. At her wince he chuckled. Mouth hovering over his mark he thought of biting her again but instead just licked up the blood which oozed out, staining her skin. She was shivering under him and he loved it. 

_ See? You can still have fun without Dru... Oh Dru. _

With no warning he broke out in sobs. He couldn't handle being without her. He slumped down not wanting to support himself. Blood and tears mixed on the body between him and the bed. He probably called out Drusilla's name more than once in his despair. 

It almost didn't register when arms wrapped around him in a trepid but comforting embrace. He lifted his head to see a frightened little girl staring down a monster with... Was that pity?

Quickly he untangled himself from her and stood up. He almost offered her a hand but stopped himself at the last moment. She said nothing. Probably too confused. He couldn't blame her, he was confused himself.

He coughed to clear his throat and really looked at her for the first time. She sat nervously on the edge of the bed. Her hair was mussed up. It tangled visibly where he had grabbed it in the back. Her face was pale. Blood rushed to more important areas with the threat of death at her doorstep.

"Here's the thing." He stepped back towards her again but still left some space. He put no effort in making himself sound intimidating but he didn't exactly try to soften it either. "I'm going to kill you." The near silent intake of breath excited him. "I'm going to kill you, but I'll let you decide what happens after." That was when he closed the distance again. "I can let you stay dead... Or... I can bring you back." He was gentler this time. Took her cheek and raised her face up to look at him. "What do you think? Wanna be like me?" 

Her eyes flashed wide but he didn't wait for an answer. Who was he kidding anyway? He didn't care about the answer. He was going to do whatever he wanted.

A couple hours later he lay saited beside her body. He hadn't made it quick. No, he took his sweet time and played with her. Meal like that he wanted to savor it. 

He lay still on the bed listening to the fluttering heartbeat warring to live. It clashed against the quiet but still steady heartbeat of the other. Had he really just done that? Almost a hundred an' twenty years he'd been a vampire and he'd never considered bringing someone else into it. His mind was still addled by alcohol but the blood was sobering. He turned his head from the ceiling to the woman beside him.

He really did it didn't he? This was really happening. He reached for the blankets and drew them up over her shoulders before he noticed the ponce inside him acting up. Seems like he was going to be staying here for a few days at least.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for brief descriptions of gore

Still no trace of them. Buffy was starting to get really freaked out. Not that she wasn't already worried but it had been more than 24 at this point. Wasn't there that whole thing about how the chances of finding someone drops after 24 hours? Or maybe it was after 48. There was no way she was letting it get to 48.

Giles had gotten back with Oz and Cordy in the early morning ready to help but she had no leads. Her and Angel had looked for some sign of them radiating out from the school. They went up and down every dark alleyway, took out two vampire nests and a demon den. They even beat up Willy for info and still nothing.

_ Whoever did this is either really smart or unbelievably lucky. _

She sighed. Hopefully there would be some sign of them soon.

_-_-_-_-_-_

For an hour Willow tried to recall the details of the original spell but there were gaps in her memory. Her notes were all for a de-lusting spell she cooked up. It was based off a real love spell in _ Delauren's Witchcraft _ but she didn't have that book with her. All she had was her notebook. _ It's a notebook, not a journal. _ Even though she adamantly didn't want to call it a journal, she knew it was way closer to that than a real grimoire.

Not even a half hour in, Spike left her with a mumble about needing a spot of violence before he staked himself in boredom. He had already emptied an entire bottle of liquor and took another with him. They were lucky he had such a short attention span because had he stayed he might have drunkenly decided to kill them. Her neck wound could attest to his lack of self control.

After staring at the supplies and notes for another fifteen minutes she gave up. _ This is impossible. _ Trying to figure the spell out was fruitless. If she did the love spell and it failed he would kill them. In the one in a million chance she actually managed to get it right he would probably kill them anyway just for fun. This was Spike after all. 

Her energy would be better focused towards trying to figure a way out of here. First things first, she was going to try the door. If she were really lucky maybe Spike forgot to lock it. 

-_-_-_-_-_-

"Giles where are you?"

Her watcher popped his head out from his office around the corner. "Buffy! Thank goodness you're here I have an urgent situation that needs to be checked up on." He looked around her towards the doors of the library. "Is anyone with you?"

"No, Angel said he was going to loop the cemeteries for me and Oz was taking another lap around town in his van, just in case. I haven't been able to reach Faith all day."

It was getting late. She really didn't want to give up the search but Angel had made her promise to get some sleep. Not that she thought she would be able to. He told her to go straight home but she had to check in with Giles first to see if he had figured anything out.

She placed both her hands on her hips and gave Giles a Slayer death glare. Patent pending.

"So. What is more urgent than my friends being missing?" 

"A series of murders suggests that a new player has come into town."

"Have you seen the victims? Neither are Xander or Willow are they?" Oh God she couldn't handle that if it was true. It was hard enough to lose acquaintances. Failing her friends would be like watching Merrick die all over again. Except it would be way worse because she brought the two of them into this world and not the other way around.

"No no." He removed his glasses to scrub the non-existent smudges off. His eyes stayed trained on the wire frames as he spoke. "Nothing yet on that front." 

She brought back the slayer glare which this time was fueled by his instance on wasting her time.

Giles cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the pressure he was under. "They were murders of the barbecue fork variety." He added pointedly. "We still have no other leads. Can't harm to check it out."

"Can't harm!? I don't even know if Willow and Xander are still alive!"

"Need I remind you that you have a sacred duty to protect all humans, not just your friends? You are the Slayer Buffy, you can't choose which battles to fight and which to ignore."

"I don't care about any of that! I need my friends to be okay and you're trying to take me off the search! Send me off after something else!"

"Buffy I'm sorry. However, you must calm down. I know you are scared but your friends will not benefit from panic. Considering the timing of this appearance, l expect a correlation to become evident."

She hated that what he said made sense. "Fine." It was as close to a growl as a human voice could make. "What's the what on this info, lead whatever?"

_-_-_-_-_-_

Spike had filled up on blood and booze but felt no better for it. He wasn't terribly surprised. The blood was passe. The booze was good but made moping easier. Being drunk didn't exactly make anything feel better, just softer. Right now he was walking some random street kicking at gravel in the road. He was transfixed by the way they scattered over the pavement. He would kick two at a time and watch as they scattered. It was the way his heart felt. Every piece the dead thing was on a different corner of the planet since she let him go.

He stopped himself suddenly. With hands stuffed in his duster pockets he threw his head back and stared into the starry sky. She always loved the stars. "Why did you do this to me Dru?"

"Silly boy thinking only of what's been done to him and not what he has done to others."

_ Great I've gone straight sack of hammers. _

He was barmy enough that he was hearing her voice now. "I'd prefer not to have my thoughts haunted thanks." Yeah he was talking to himself but he was well an' wasted so he was going to cut himself the slack.

An eerie chuckle filled the cool air. "The pixies speak but you shan't hear them." He looked ahead just fast enough to catch as black hair shook with the head of his sire. "No, I am not them. Merely a messenger to their cause."

"Drusilla?"

"See me now?" Her head tilted slightly in appraisal. He had known her his whole undead life and he still couldn't read her expression in this moment. "Good."

She covered the space between them in no time at all. He would have run to her as well if he weren't so dumbstruck to see her here. She met him with a kiss but not the type he wanted. Instead of meeting in an embrace of lips his face became reacquainted with her palm. The slap sounded out around him and rang in his ears. Borrowed blood warmed the skin where the impact stung. His whole head swung sideways as she held none of her strength back. 

It took him a moment to realize what had happened. When he did he was furious.

"What the bloody hell was that for?!" 

"You've been playing with things you mustn't!" Drusilla was upset about something but he hadn't even been around her. How could he have done something to make her angry? 

_ What does it matter to me anyway if she is having a fit? She bloody well wants nothing to do with me. I should treat her the same. _

"The pixies are all in a fuss and won't sit down to teatime until all is right side left again." She ended her tirade with a frown.

"Dru," He was torn between anger at the attack and renewed hope for their eternal love. As such his voice came out precariously tempered. "I don't know what you're on about but how did you get here?" He wanted to ask her if she came for him but refrained.

"Simple, I flew as the birds do. Trapped in a big metal cage."

He blinked in shock. "You took a plane all by yourself?" It was impressive for any vampire to fly without catching rays. For a scattered mind like Dru's it was near impossible.

"What else am I to do when my black night takes the chariot away?" She pouted in the way she always would. It was making him want to hold her, give her everything she's ever wanted just to see her smile again. It would be so easy for him to forget and take her back right here and now. 

_ God she must know what she does to me. _

"Besides" She went on, oblivious to his internal struggle against bending immediately to her whims. "The clock is ticking. Let the bell toll midnight and you'll be naught but a pumpkin. 'Cept there'll be no more pie for the rest of us."

"Dru luv," Both his patience and resolve was waning. He didn't have enough working brain cells right now to understand what she was on about. "It's well past midnight already."

She ignored him which stung worse than usual. "You went and started the race without me. How could you?" Her pout came back with a vengeance but it didn't have the same effect.

"Dru you left me!" Frustrated, he screamed the words at her. "What was I supposed to do besides go somewhere to try and forget?" Same as before, anger quickly gave way to despair. Strangely enough Drusilla actually noticed him at this.

"Oh sweet William." She took his cheek in her hand and he easily relaxed into it's cool embrace. "You have absolutely no idea what you've done." He was too tired to fight. Instead he let himself be lost in her presence. She was even more enchanting with the sudden bout of sanity and hint of gentleness she showed. Though she still spoke nonsense, she was with him right now. "All's well." The caress lost its charm as she turned it into a maternal pat. "Mummy will make it all better." 

Having said everything she meant to, she traded her human face for that of the demon and left him alone. He found himself feeling far colder than he had before she had arrived. With a shiver he pulled his jacket tighter and headed back to the witch at the factory. It was time he ended this game.

-_-_-_-_-_-

"...Willow?"

Xander woke to very uncomfortable jostling. He felt extremely weak and terribly nauseous. The room was moving too fast. No that wasn't right. He was moving. And the air, it wasn't stale and ashen. It was fresh. He forced himself to open his eyes and regretted it immediately. There were flashing lights all around him. When he felt a hand on his face he opened them yet again. 

_ Will. _

She was talking to him but he couldn't hear her right. He tried to focus on her lips and make something of it.

...Out...Hospital...Safe...

That's good, he trusted her to take care of things. And while she took care of things he could go back to sleep. He was so tired. His eyelids drooped closed under the colorful lights and consciousness faded into the muddy sound.

"He's going to be okay right?" Willow was frantically asking questions of the paramedics outside the ambulance drop off of Sunnydale hospital.

"We will do the best we can but you have to let us work." The medical professionals shooed her but she couldn't let herself stay far away. Now that they had him strapped in a neck brace and against a backboard they were rolling him into the ER proper. She followed them to the doors but was caught by something else entirely as she stepped through.

To her left was a man screaming in pain, or more likely fear from being able to see his guts. Two men were wrapping the stomach wound to stop the bleeding. A woman stood at his side holding his hand. He must have been waiting for surgery. She imagined he was almost dinner for one of Sunnydale's less friendly residents. The odd part of it all was that where normally the sight would squick her out, she couldn't stop staring. Bright red liquid was soaking up into white cloth. Doctors were screaming directions and people were running about. She didn't notice any of it. She just stared at the pooling blood.

"Miss… Excuse me, miss!" She broke from the trance to an older lady in blue scrubs. "You need to get out of the way." She took her roughly by wrist and walked them into the hallway. Apparently she had drifted into the room where the demon victim was. "The boy you brought in is over in room 2C. You're lucky we had a bed open up so fast or he would be stuck in the hallway." It was hard to not look over her shoulder. She gulped down the excess saliva that built up in her mouth while she was unfocused. 

This nurse or whatever she was wasn't having it. She even so far as snapped in Willow's face to draw her attention again. "I know blood is tough for a lot of youngins but I need you to stay focused sweetie." Her words were nice but her tone was harsh. "We need some basic information about the patient."

_ Right that makes sense. _ She nodded her understanding at the woman.

"Okay" She double clicked the pen in her hand even though it did nothing. "What is the patient's name and relation to you?"

"Xander. Alexander actually. Alexander Harris. He's my oldest friend."

She scribbled something down on the first and last page. "Do you know if Xander has any allergies to medicine?"

"Yes." She hurried to answer. "I mean yes I know, and no he does not."

"What happened tonight? The EMT said you told him he hit his head but can you be more specific?"

"Uh, it was actually yesterday I think, and then again tonight. The first time something uh," The scene of Spike hitting him over his head with the lab microscope flashed in her mind. "Something fell on him." She lied. "and then tonight he was resting and fell back into the headboard."

The nurse gave her a look that told her she didn't buy the story. Instead of pressing it she spoke on. "You really should have come in after the first accident."

"I'll remember that for the next time."

The nurse ripped off the first sheet and shoved the clipboard to Willow. "Can you fill this paperwork out yourself or do you need help?"

"No I should be fine." _As long as I can stay focused. _She added mentally.

"Good, try to stay in your friend's room. Anything you don't know leave blank." She quickly made to leave.

"Wait!" The lady turned around, clearly impatient with her. Naturally, Willow shrunk in on herself. "Is there a telephone somewhere?"

"There's a payphone in the waiting room that way. Get yourself checked in with security while you are at it. Mr. Harris's name should be in the system by the time you are done with your call."

_-_-_-_-_-_

Something drew Oz into the warehouse district. He couldn't explain what it was but he wasn't going to ignore it. He was the kind of person who trusted his instinct. Instinct rarely led him astray. After all, instinct had told him to pursue Willow in the first place, and she had become so important to him in the months they had been together. He wouldn't trade the time he'd spent with her for the world.

Parking the van by one of the abandoned storage units he stepped out into the night. He hadn't slept more than half an hour since Willow went missing but the full moon was close and the wolf's heightened senses made up for his exhaustion. He had no idea what he was looking for now that he was here. All he knew was that he needed to look. 

After walking for about ten minutes he smelled her. It was kind of a weird sensation so he was glad no one was around to have to explain it to. He ran, following the trail to where the scent was the thickest. He found himself outside the skeleton of a burnt building. Half of the frame was standing while half was at his feet. Still following Willow's scent he stepped over the latter half. Parts of the ceiling were still in place but the openings let in enough moonlight to see. At the more intact end of the building he uncovered a door. 

He reached for the handle only to find it missing. Where a doorknob should have been was a gaping hole. Splinters veered off in each direction from the broken wood. Looking like it was attacked by an animal he was concerned for his chances of finding her still here or still alive. He pushed on the door which creaked loudly as it swung open. 

He was about to step down into the gloomy basement when a slurred voice peppered by a Cockney accent caught him off guard. "Who the bloody hell are you?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for brief use of explicit language and canon typical violence

"Who the bloody hell are you?" Spike was annoyed more than anything. He just wanted to pass out on his bed with the pretty redhead tied to the headboard. It was pathetic but he'd rather cuddle up to her warmth than sleep the night alone.

The love spell, whatever went wrong with turning the witch, his weird run in with Dru that _didn't_ end up with them shagging over the bloody bedspread of an unlucky sod's house. All of that could wait till tomorrow. 

He looked past the kid in front of him towards his hideaway. The door was in shambles. "The hell did you do to my door?" Pushing around so that he was at the top of the stairs he looked down. His captive humans were nowhere to be found. "Where the bleeding fuck is my bloody witch?" Seething he flipped back around. The boy was staring him down.

"You took Willow." Instead of running the kid stood there, voice deceivingly steady. If he weren't so pissed at how tonight was going he would hand it to the guy for having a solid pair of stones.

"Yeah I snatched Little Red Riding Witch," He snapped. "but she ain't here anymore. I can tell you that much." He looked the boy up and down. Kid's fists were clenched in barely masked anger. "Who are you then? Her little brother?" He pulled out a fag and stuck it between his lips. Nicotine was exactly what he needed to not rip that head off of those shoulders. The action made him look aloof but really he was watching closely for a reaction. Information, he needed information, then the twerp could die.

The twitch of his set mouth told Spike all he needed to know. "Boyfriend then." He mumbled it through the cigarette but the words were clear enough. With a flick of controlled flame smoke filled his lungs. He took a deep drag to make sure the stick stay lit. Lighter tucked back in his pocket and cigarette between his fingers he let the breath out slow. "Funny. She did a lot more screaming for the nit I found her with than she did for you. Think you might have some competition there."

"Where is she?" _Single minded chuffer._

"Wish I knew myself." He paced himself with another drag. "Listen here, I've had some lady trouble lately. In respect of our shared misfortunes, you walk away now and I promise not to have you for an after dinner snack."

"I'm not going until you tell me what you've done with Willow."

A small growl escaped his lips. "I told you mate I don't know what happened." He flicked away the butt of his cig and switched to his game face. "Last chance to walk away."

The boy stared him down silent and unmoving. "Suit yourself." Spike lunged forward a second later. He was just about to reach him when a flash of black blocked the path.

"Bloody hell not _ you _ again." Spike rolled his eyes. This night was just getting worse and worse.

"Oz, head back to Giles at the library. I'll take care of this." Angel spoke without letting his eyes stray to the kid behind him.

"You sure you don't need any help?"

"I'll be fine." With that the little tosser took off. "What are you doing back here Spike?" Angel spit his name as if the word left a foul taste in his mouth.

"None of your bleeding business soul boy. Now do me a favor and _sod off!_"

"I don't think so." The older vampire's calmness was at odds with the younger's short fuse. "I think you're coming with me till I know Buffy's friends are safe."

"I told short an' stout the same thing I'm gonna tell you. I don't know where they went. "

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

The air was so much fresher outside. It felt like she could think finally. The atmosphere of death blood and pain inside the hospital had been getting to her. She stayed by Xander's unconscious side until they took him away to where she couldn't follow. She was told a room number and that he would be there by visiting times tomorrow. The doctor who was overseeing his treatment said she could wait but that she expected Willow to be checked out herself should she stay. Having been held captive so long she needed to grasp at freedom while she had the option. So here she was in the night waiting for Giles and Buffy to pull up outside the ER.

"Finally found you o' burning child." A haunting voice made her jump.

"Drusilla? What are you doing here."

Come to return the story to its happy ending for my baby boy." The previously sick vampire stepped gracefully from the shadows. No illness hampered her movements now.

_ Baby boy? Does she mean Spike? _"Didn't you leave Spike? Isn't that the whole reason he is here? Not with you?"

"Little one can't understand how what's mine is mine can you?" Drusilla's voice floated non-threateningly but had a deadly cut underneath to those that knew what she was. "That's why you try to claim it while mommy's away."

"I didn't try to claim anything. Spike kidnapped me. I just want to go home."

"But home doesn't want you anymore burning one. Your mum won't be there to let you in. Stoop 'sa cold place tuh sleep without a belly full o' blood." Drusilla rubbed her stomach as she spoke.

Willow felt ready to puke. "Oh god, what did you do to her?" Her parents were supposed to be out of town but if Dru caught them coming home early? _ What if mom is on the steps bleeding out right now? _

"I shan't do a thing. It was and is all your fault. It will all be your fault. The faults of you and your blinding Slayer. You'se fishes flying round his head you is." Her hands lifted up gesturing about tracing the vision of something unseen. "Mucking things all up for the rest of us." The dancing hands dropped suddenly. "Well I won't let it happen." She stamped her foot down and clenched her fists. "I won't let it."

Drusilla lunged for her and Willow jumped to the side. It was pure luck that the woman's claw nails didn't scathe her. Snarling, the dark beauty swiped again and again but always just out of reach.

Willow didn't push her chances. The first opportunity to come she dashed away down the street. The hospital wouldn't be safer. It would just put Xander and lots of other people at risk. Hard footfalls reverberated through her entire body like a drumbeat but she didn't tire. She didn't have the luxury to tire and survive. 

Underneath the next streetlight she noticed a man leaning against his car. "Help me!" 

The man looked up momentarily before dropping whatever he was holding to fumble for his keys. The doors unlocked with a beep and she was at the passenger side in the next moment. Willow slammed the door shut just as the engine roared to life. Shouting at him to drive wasn't necessary but she did it anyway. The car was already ripping away from the curb when she did so. A thud against the back of the vehicle frightened both of them yet the man only pushed his foot closer to the floor.

Willow sat in bated silence waiting for another sound. For the door to rip off and Drusilla's arm to drag her from the seat. She didn't dare move a muscle. She was too terrified.

The first thing she noticed coming down from the terror was that the frequency of flashing lights on the dashboard was decreasing. They were slowing down. She glanced to the driver still gripping the steering wheel for dear life. She could smell the tobacco rolling off his clothes and knew now that he must have been smoking outside when she found him. There were a couple bars on that stretch of road. Oh God was she in a car with a drunk driver? 

The ridiculousness of the concern hit her suddenly. Here she was having run for her life and now she was worried about her getaway driver having had a beer? The laugh that tumbled out of her mouth was inevitable. It started small and turned hysterical. It crashed through her until she held her sides in real pain, her face wet with tears.

She didn't stop when the car pulled off the road or the stranger rest a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay miss?"

Those few words. No she wasn't. He knew that, she knew that. Anyone with eyes could see that. Her fit of laughter broke down into sobs. How many times had she almost died? Her brain and body must be short circuiting from all the adrenaline. She shouldn't be but somehow she was still alive. No rescue came, no Buffy to save the day. She did it all herself and somehow she was still alive.

Salty water and snot was lapped up by her sleeve before she lifted her head with a sniffle. The comforting hand still on her shoulder led up to a handsome face and kind smile over wide shoulders. He must have been a football player in highschool but he was at least college age now.

"Thank you."

"Don't worry about it. Mostly was self preservation there anyway. If you hadn't gotten in the car fast as you did I might've taken off without you." Something about the unbridled honesty was charming. He seemed like a pretty nice guy. "I won't ask what you were being chased for. I'm just glad we got away." He shivered briefly and looked back. "You'll be fine once you've had a good meal and tuck in. You have a place to go?"

She nodded, her body screamed to go straight home but wasn't comfortable giving the address to a man she hardly knew. Even if he did just save her from an especially crazy vampress. "Could you drop me off at the highschool?"

"Yeah, I can do that."

The school looked so creepy at night. As if it was regularly filled with ghosts rather than students. Regret dampened her resolve but not enough to kill the ingrained threat of stranger danger.

"You sure you want me to drop you off here?" She turned from the school to see the brawny man lean over in his seat and look up at her out the open passenger window.

"Here is good." She smiled reassuringly. "Thanks again."

"No problem really. Need anything my name's Chip. Most of the bartenders round here know me. All you need to do is ask."

"Thank you really." Her smile this time was genuine.

"Like I said no problem." Then he and the car were gone and it was just Willow standing at the roadside in the night.

_ Right. _ She told herself after a minute watching the car's tail lights die off into the distance. _ Let's get heading home. _

Home wasn't far. She walked it regularly but she learned quickly that she needn't walk it tonight.

"Willow!"

"Oz!" Her boyfriend came running at her without slowing. It felt so good that he didn't. The impact when they embraced was too relieving. He squeezed her tight and she gave her best right back. When they finally let their arms go slack he took her head in both hands and kissed her dramatically. There was a desperation in him she felt through to her pinky toes. When that finally calmed they let their foreheads simply rest together.

"I missed you." He whispered.

"Oz I missed you so much." The words could barely be distinguished for the tears she thought had been exhausted.

"We have to let Giles and Buffy know you're okay." He headed towards the school but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

"I called them already from the hospital." He raised his eyebrows starting to look her over. "Xander was admitted. I should have stayed but I don't think I'm thinking clearly."

"No one is expecting you to." He pulled her close by her shoulder. "Want me to drive you home?"

"Could I stay at yours? Just for tonight? My parents are away and I…" 

_ Home doesn't want you anymore. _

"I don't want to be alone. Like I said my parents are away and-"

He brought a light finger up to stop her. "Shh it's okay Will. You can stay with me as long as you need."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Chip thought about calling it a night but instead decided to hit one more bar. He pulled into the lot behind Willy's and parked in his usual place in the corner. His classic chevy being dinged by the crap demon drivers in this town wasn't worth the minute shorter walk or so. 

The place was dead, only a couple drifters in a far booth and a demon by the jutebox. Actually it was still pretty lively considering the time. Most sun shy creatures had already called it a night or were going to soon. Chip ignored the other patrons and walked up to the bar instead.

"Heya there pal." Willy gave a real smile over the counter. The kind he reserved for paying customers and people that didn't do him bodily harm. "Looking for something to tide you over through the day? I got a nice shipment-"

"I'll just have a Corona tonight thanks. Mostly came to talk."

The skrawny bartender ducked for a low cooler and popped the top off of his friend's drink. "You got info to trade then?"

"Maybe, do you know why Drusilla's in town again?"

"Know why?" Exasperated already he set a chilled glass with lime next to the beer. "I didn't even know she was. You have me beat hands down with that one. Could make a few guesses. Still that's all they'd be. William the Bloody drunk pulled into town two nights ago but far as I hear, it was without the missus."

"Well she's here alright. Saw her with my own eyes." He brought the glass up to sip but set it down with another question. "Know anything about a redhead fledge?"

"Old Chip have himself a crush now does he?" Willy gave him a playful push on the shoulder and Chip had to smile if only for a second. "Nothing like that. Just a curiosity is all." The conversation dropped when the bar owner said he knew nothing.

It was than curiosity for Chip. He had a feeling that girl was more than meets the eye. He just couldn't put his finger on why.

Willy stepped away to call last round for the remaining patrons. It reminded him of the cold glass he still had his hand around. Chip brought it to his lips with no sense of haste. His friend wouldn't mind his sitting here lost in thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for past non/dub con themes and recovery

"You shouldn't have come back Spike." Angel had him cornered. The only places he could go were into his recently trashed hideout or through the elder vampire. Neither were particularly great options.

He refused to let the unease show. "You know me. I've never been one for doing what I should."

"What are you doing here?" 

The 'above this' attitude was enough to get him more than a little ticked off. "Getting talked at by a pug ugly gorilla or so it seems."

Angel tried to silently stare him down. Apparently choosing not to acknowledge the barb. The twitch of muscle between his lip and nose still made it clear he heard it.

"What's with the soul having anyway?" Spike started in again, mildly curious. "Last I knew Slayer was 'bout to kill you." It actually looked the opposite but far as he knew the bint was still kicking.

"Long story."

"Doesn't have to be." He replied simply. Putting on an air of nonchalance. "You go after a chav I didn't know about and get that cursed conscience shoved back up your arse?"

"Willow did it."

"Wil- the little witch?" He couldn't contain his bafflement. "So the slag  _ was _ holding out on me! She could do the spell the whole time and I let her play me like a fool." Small part of him was impressed at the deception.

"It doesn't matter. You're leaving town. Tonight." 

"Maybe I don't want to?" Like hell he was going to after learning this. "You gonna make me?"

"If I have to." Angel's deepened scowl signaled that he meant business.

Spike dashed left to make his way around Angel but was caught roughly by the shoulder. Instinctually, he swung out with his free arm slamming his grandsire on the side of the head. It gave him a momentary reprieve, just enough to slip out of the older vampire's loosened grasp. He ran through the burnt and broken building with little trouble. Having traversed it several times previously he knew what path to take. 

The larger vampire had less luck.

When Angel finally made it outside Spike was nowhere to be found. Internally he cursed himself for losing him. He wanted as little to do with Drusilla's mangy dog as possible. 

At least now he knew who the troublemaker was.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Oz lay sideways in bed. His head perched on his arm, elbow depressing the pillow and mattress beneath it. He let his fingers brush over Willow's cheek. She was cold but he thought nothing of it. He always ran hot this time of month. 

Intently he studied the beautiful creature asleep on his bed. She slept so soundly. If it weren't for her light breath she could almost be mistaken for dead. It was amazing having her with him again. It was amazing, yet there was an uneasiness he couldn't shake. She looked like Willow, acted like Willow, talked like Willow. She even smelled like Willow. But the wolf inside him wouldn't calm down. All his senses were on high alert screaming that his girlfriend was still missing. Crying out for his lost mate. If it were the full moon he would be howling up a storm. 

It wasn't. That was a few nights past. These days following the change truly could be the hardest on him. The days before and after the turn when the lines blurred between what was him and what was the beast. He loved Willow with every piece of his being. So he knew beyond a doubt that this was her. Still that darker side fought him. The monster he was three nights a month told him he was wrong, that this was wrong. But that monster wasn't him.

_ I'm me. I'm not the wolf. _

He sighed and looked at his clock on the side table. Sun would be rising soon. He shuffled to pull himself out of bed and get ready for the day. He could leave her a note but I didn't want to wake her. As it was he was only awake because he couldn't sleep. He already told his housemates that she was staying. One perk of having moved in with some friends that already graduated. No one cared if your partner stayed the night.

After showering he made some breakfast for himself and left the rest for her in the fridge. He mentioned it in his note as well as that he'd come back at lunch to check on her. Bring her to the second half of classes if she was up to it.

All that was left now was to drive to school. He didn't want to leave her but at the same time thought she would appreciate him gathering all the assignments she missed from yesterday.

He found Giles and Buffy in the library. They gave him an update on Xander's condition and he assured them Willow was alright. Apparently Xander was still asleep. The hit he had taken caused a hemorrhage and doctors were concerned about the amount of oxygen reaching the tissue. Cordelia was skipping school today to stay by his side. She convinced her dad to pull some favors so that he could have the best treatment even though his parent's insurance wasn't great.

"I don't mean to sound petty but I didn't realize she actually cared about him that much." Buffy voiced it but Oz could understand where she was coming from.

"People show love in many different ways." And Giles was right about that. He knew it almost too well. Sometimes people assumed he didn't feel because he didn't say or express much, but he did. He felt a lot. Willow understood.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Cozy warmth surrounded her. Soft blankets wrapped tight, keeping in the cultivated heat.  So safe.

At the first caress of cold she tugged tight on the covers. The chill trailed up her arm before it slipped itself under the sheets.

_ Daaaaad turn up the heat I'm cold. _

The warmth of her stomach drastically sapped away when icy fingers slipped under her shirt. Her eyes flashed open to inky blackness. An all too recognizable voice called out to her.

"Miss me pet?"

_ No no no _

She tried to move but was locked in place. Her muscles refused to work. She was trapped and Spike wasn't even holding her down.

"You're mine now. Always will be."

The breath of his words shifted the air by her neck and pricked the nerves of her ear. His hand crawled up her torso. Skin freezing where he touched. Cold air would be a luxury over this. A sensation like melting ice shot shivers through her veins. She realized to her horror that he was lapping at her pulse point. The chill lifted for a moment then was quickly overcome by burning. Heat so strong she was afraid flames would kill her sooner than the vampire. Heartbeat rapidly increasing, blood rushed to the open wounds he made. Her body's futile attempt at patching the holes. The flux of platelets instead were diving down Spike's throat. 

_ I don't want to die. Please don't let me die. Not here in this decrepit building. Not so young. Not before I've had a chance to really live. _

Life slowly drained from her. With it, shadows began to take shape. Color began to feed in as if a light was being raised. Her body lightened, muscles twitched as they started to return under her control. The pounding in her chest fluttered once more then slowed to almost nothing. She could see the whole room now, vibrant and intense.

Spike no longer felt so cold. He lifted his head from her neck. His predator's visage was painted in a bright red that called to her almost as much as the smile around his fangs. His hand came up and brushed loose hair behind her ear.

"Bonds forged in blood luv."

She finished his thought for him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "It's always about the blood."

And then he was gone.

Flashes of light over her eyelids drew her awake. Golden midday sun peeked through the pulled blinds. It was shifting gently with light wind. Sunlight was a welcome change to the dank basement she had grown used to waking in. She thought about pulling them open but didn't want to hurt her eyes with the intensity. It seemed very bright, brighter than normal if that was possible. As bright as within the dream though she didn't remember it.

Lazily she looked around the room. It was smaller than the bedroom Oz had at his parents but no less cozy. His black Stratocaster was in a stand across the room. The hard case on the floor beside it covered in stickers and a spray painted logo for the Dingos. There was also a small MusicMan amp, a desk and chair but that was all the room had space for besides the essentials. Like a bed and closet for clothes.

Willow stretched and pulled herself up. Beside the bed she noticed the note.

A pang of guilt hit. Her resolve deepened to never let lust between her and Xander ever again. No magic nessisary. She was glad Oz let her rest, but she was a bit anxious to get back to school. Still it was probably for the best. She needed the sleep. Should probably take a shower as well. 

That could wait till after food. She was starving. In the fridge she found the covered plate labeled Willow. 

_ Eggs and sausage yum. _

He had wheat bread on the counter which she started toasting and threw the leftovers in the microwave. It took a couple tries to find the cups but once she did she filled a tall glass with water from the sink and drank deeply. When the microwave beeped and toast popped up she made a sandwich. It smelled delicious. Her mouth was watering at the first bite.

Teeth sunk into it like food yet her tongue treated it like cardboard.

Her chewing slowed to a standstill as she looked down at the breakfast sandwich. There was no way Oz was that bad of a cook. She tried to force herself to eat. It wasn't happening. The meal was not appealing to her in the slightest anymore. Resigned she used a napkin to spit out what she had yet to swallow. Then she took the rest of the sandwich and dumped it in the trash.

The other men in the house were stirring by the time she was out of the shower. She could hear their shuffling when water flow stopped. Sam lived here, the bassist of the Dingoes. She knew him, but not the third. Hopefully if she ran into anyone it would be Sam and not the stranger. 

He wasn't a complete stranger since Oz was friends with him but after everything, she really wasn't up to dealing with new people. Men especially. Spike had been handsy though that was the extent of it. She was probably lucky she hadn't had worse. He had threatened it.

He said things and touched her and slept with her. In the non biblical sense, for what little blessing that was. What  _ did  _ happen still happened. 

The memories were only flashes still. Flashes were enough. They were enough to bring back the fear. She had no power. No right to say no. No ability to when he held her. When he weakened her. God the way her nerves screamed under the piercing of his fangs.

_ Come back soon please Oz. _

There was a small puddle of water just outside the basin of the tub. None of the teenagers living here thought to buy a bath mat unfortunately. She set about towel drying herself before dressing in her dirty jeans and a shirt she borrowed from Oz's dresser. The fabrics clung to her skin in several places where she was still a little damp. 

Dressed she turned to the window.  _ Have to great the day eventually after all.  _

There was an ominous feeling surrounding the light for her. An unspoken fear that she wasn't the same anymore. The things she couldn't remember. The way blood transfixed her at the hospital. Her insatiable hunger.

She stepped up to the window with dread clawing at her back. It caused a shake in her hand as she reached for the pull to the blinds. 

_ Like ripping off a bandaid. One. Two… Three. _

Almost as fast as she tugged she flinched back shielding herself with thrown arms. A clash against the cabinet and floor matched by the white noise of rubbing plastic sheets. She opened her eyes to check. The blinds stretched in a mess over everything. They had slipped off the wall with the force she used. She rushed under the light to clean the mess she made. 

Sunlight, of course, had no damaging effect on her. She was catastrophizing as always. Looking for the worst possible outcome when everything was actually fine.

When Oz showed up she was more than ready to go. She ran outside to hop in his van beaming with the promise of returning normality. He met her with a smile.

There was a Scooby meeting after ninth period. Xander obviously couldn't come and neither had Cordelia. What was really surprising was that Angel had shown up even though the sun was still shining. When her and Oz walked up to the three others the vampire gave her a funny look before returning to the conversation already started.

"Found the police outside a liquor store so I snooped a little. The clerk was murdered but all that was missing were several bottles of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes. Witness said it was some punk with platinum hair. Sounded real familiar so I took it upon myself to check out the old warehouse."

"I'm glad you did. Oz wouldn't have been able to take Spike on his own."

Her boyfriend bristled at Buffy's comment but they all knew it was true. Especially him. She squeezed his hand reassuringly before speaking. "Spike isn't the only one in town." 

Oz had already heard the tale but she retold it for the new audience. Angel watched her intently as she did so.

Giles was the first to speak when she finished. "You did good to escape from her Willow." 

"You were lucky." Angel grumbled. No one but her seemed to notice.

Buffy cut in shortly after that. She was standing right next to the vampire arms crossed. "I never should have made that deal with Spike. Should have just staked him where he stood. Both of them are back here now because I thought for some crazy reason I could trust his word."

"You can't change that now." Oz always had a piece of wisdom to share. Just one of the many reasons she loved him.

Giles stayed solidly in watcher mode through his Slayer's outburst. He calmly waited for Buffy to finish, Oz to reply and then looked to Willow. "Was there anything she said that stood out to you Willow? Something that might explain why she is here or why she would target you?"

"No I don't…" She started to say but remembered a repeated phrase. "Actually, she kept calling me a burning child. I don't really get it but she called me a burning child and said I was trying to take Spike from her."

Angel ceased his silent act. "She might know something we don't. She understands things outside normal preception. It was what drew me to her in the first place."

Buffy looked at him longer than everyone else. It wasn't with her normally longing eyes. It was knowing, sad, and maybe the slightest bit scared. Angel met her gaze. It made Willow remember the ugly truth of where Drusilla came from.

"Well I can consult my books for references to a burning child but it isn't much to go on."

"You do that Giles." Buffy launched herself into Slayer mode. "In the meantime Willow you should stay with me. Your parents being out of town keeps them safe for now but I don't want to leave you alone either. Spike or Drusilla could come back."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for references to past non/dub con, violence and descriptions of past bullying/abuse

Buffy lay in bed feigning sleep. Willow was next to her lightly snoring. Their sleepover was thus far uneventful from a Slayer's standpoint. But from a best friend standpoint it was intense. Willow told her everything. The whole story went from bad to awful to just plain sad.

Spike had been a wreck apparently. She spent her time with him unsure if she was supposed to be a witch, a meal, a toy or a pet. His moods seesawed between violent, depressed and bizarrely affectionate. The last part was the scariest. Needless to say, Spike would be on the dusty end of Buffy's stake the next time she saw him.

Willow's story didn't end there. She shared more than being kidnapped. The news that both of her best friends were cheating on their significant others was… heavy. Buffy didn't like keeping secrets like that and begged Will to come clean. Allegedly, she was planning on it. Telling her was the first step of a full blown Willow plan.

"I'm just afraid it would be unfair to Xander."

"It's unfair to Cordelia." Buffy had reasoned. "Not to mention Oz."

Willow winced at the mention of her own part in the betrayal. "I know, but Xander should have the chance to do the right thing too."

"I suppose so." She agreed with the sentiment but didn't like what it meant in the now.

"This is why I'm telling you Buffy. You'll keep me honest. I won't be able to back out of saying something if you already know."

"It's a lot to ask Will."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm just afraid to do it on my own." Willow drew into herself where she was sitting, cross-legged on the bed.

Buffy hated the Willow pout face. Strong willed Slayer that she was you'd think it would take more to crack her resolve than a trembling lip and downturned eyes. Give her vampires anyday. She was helpless in the face of Willow's sadness.

She sighed. "What are friends for if not keeping each other's darkest secrets secret?"

"Oh thank you, thank you." Willow crashed into Buffy with a powerful hug. It was impressive strength for a normal teenage girl. Still she had nothing on Slayer hugs. Buffy gave back only as much as she got. Her friend offered no complaint.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Spike grumbled to himself as he walked the early morning streets. Last night had gone right to the crapper. He lost track of Dru, lost the witch before she cast her spell, he even lost the roof over his head. Not much could have gone worse. He was just lucky they hadn't found his wheels too. The back of the DeSoto was his bed for the previous day and might be for this sunrise too if he couldn't find someplace better to bunk.

The hell had Dru been thinking showing her face anyway? Half of him was convinced she just wanted to mess with his head. 

_ Can do that well enough from half a world away. Don't need you right under my nose an' still denying me. _

He knew she couldn't love him. Much as he wanted that, he wasn't asking it from her. All he was asking her for was to let him love her. She wouldn't have it anymore. Kisses turn to ash or some rot. Little voices in her head claiming him unfaithful. As if he could ever. A rebound was nice once or twice since they'd split but it didn't mean nothing to him.

Of course he didn't even have his captive warm body to drown his sorrows in tonight. Maybe he should've remembered to feed her. Maybe that would've made her less desperate to split. Would have kept her alive too if she didn't. He was turning half as barmey as Dru forgetting to feed her pets and talking at the corpses. 

Willow would have made a nice companion. A real solid rebound. After a couple years or whenever Dru stopped playing her games he might've staked her but the interm would 'ave been easier for it. Too bad the change didn't take. He still had no idea how she survived. Must have been right plastered that night. Enough so he wasn't remembering things proper like.

Spike was still lost in his thoughts when he heard rustling from they alley between two bars. The smell of fresh blood caught his attention and turned his feet. He hadn't fed yet tonight but here was the reminder.

In the low light he saw a hulking vamp drinking and making a right mess of it too. Flash of headlights illuminated the passage as a car flew by. Just enough to catch the long ginger hair of the girl he held silent with one hand.

In the next second Spike was ripping the brute off her. He threw the fledge to the concrete wall on the other side and bore his teeth. The growl was emanating from him before he even realized what had happened.

"What the fuck man?"

_ Good question. _

Spike scrambled to find a reasonable excuse without dropping composure. "Learn some class mate. Just cause you're a monster ain't excuse you from manners." Once the story popped in his head he ran with it. "Bloody siren you are. You'd bring the Slayer right here an' then I'd 'ave lost myself a decent bar scene."

"I'm not afraid of no Slayer." Must have been a fledge because the pillock looked like he actually believed it.

"Well then you're a gormless tit on top of being a mannerless prat."

"What you want a taste? Is that what this is?" 

"Just what do you take me for? Accepting scraps from pup? I don't think so."

"Then what the fuck do you want?" Spike wished he had a real answer for what he was doing. He acted entirely on impulse with no idea where said impulse came from.

"I want you to shove it. Take your teething someplace else." This time he did his best to play up the master vamp presence. The fledge finally realized the danger of who he was arguing with and took off in a huff.

The remaining blonde vamp ran a hand through his hand and started walking back to the bar entrance.

"Th-thank you." 

He spun to the noise somehow having forgotten there was a human here. "Yeah whatever."

"No really." She said louder. "Thank you, if there is anything I can do."

He was starting to get pissed. Mostly at himself, what was he doing saving a bint who was clearly asking for it? You'd think he'd gone soft in the head.

"Really. I'll do anything." She moved up close pressing her body against him.

"Anything?" He perked a brow and she responded by caressing his chest in a deliberate path.

"Anything."

He brought out his beast watching her. She tensed for a moment but didn't pull away. Instead she tipped her head giving him access to her neck. The mess made of her recent bite was clearly evident but he also saw a few older scars. She knew the game she was playing, was hoping to trade up for a more experienced vamp.

He looked past her neck and instead focused on the uncommon fiery hair color. He drew a hand through it delicately but gripped her head at it's roots in the next moment. "Hows about you shut up for me?"

He pulled her neck over to the other undamaged side and dug his teeth neatly into her artery indelicately. The bitch actually moaned when he did it.

_ Sodding masochistic blood junkies. _

He tried to focus on the coppery liquid as it hit his tongue. He waited for the sweet flavor and bloodlust to overcome it and his drive to devour her really kick in. 

It didn't. Blood pooled in his mouth. He kept pulling and waiting for his body's response. Kept at it until he couldn't stand it anymore. At that instant he shoved the blood bag away nauseated. She looked at him first in a daze and then in indignace as he started spitting up what he had yet to swallow.

There was no helping it. He hadn't had a taste this horrible in his mouth since grade school. Bullies of the school yard had gathered all the farthings they could find and shoved them down his gullet. Several of them holding him down. His young self kicking and struggling under their grips.

His father built wealth through trade. He, unlike the other children, wasn't born to it. The old money families didn't like that. Even the youngest of them. Unfortunately, little William saw the brunt of it.

The mix of dirt, copper and bronze overflowing him and making him gag. They just kept shoving fistfuls in his face. They called him things as they did so but he didn't remember the words anymore. Tiny solid coins stuck in his throat making him cough. Metal scraped against his teeth. Sound carrying through bone into his ears. All he could smell was the strong copper odor.

The memory was an old and difficult one. Not one he thought of in ages. Possibly his entire existance as a vampire. His stomach hurt for days having been forced to swallow several before a merciful older kid saved him.

Spike paid no attention in the present as the junkie screamed her outrage at him. The scene was ironic because she didn't know how lucky she became. He would never have let her go. Tonight would have been her last fix. He never did like blood junkies.

He was on his hands and knees dry retching now. Anything to get rid of it. Rid of the memory, rid of the taste, rid of the blood. Disgusting tainted blood.

Eventually his sorry excuse for dinner stormed off. He missed it as she rounded the corner only to have her life ended with a swift snap of the neck. The body crumbled to the ground lifeless next to a pile of ash. Above the mess Chip was shoving his hands in his pants pockets. He shifted his jacket to do so. Attached to the lining of the right side was a nicely carved stake, ornate almost. Easy to miss but obvious to anyone looking for it. He watched Spike in the vampire's weakened state. His face was an emotionless mask, eyes empty enough to reflect the pathetic scene before him. He made no move to attack nor to aid, simply watched.

Long before Spike had returned to his senses Chip was gone. He had gotten what he came for. The rest was no concern.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Words blurred together on the old parchment. Giles pushed the wire frames slipping down his nose. The adjustment sharpened the lines allowing him to translate again. He was searching for the phrase Willow mentioned in every text. First he looked through the English or translated but those had been quickly exhausted. Now there were piles across his desk sorted by language. It was easier for him not to switch gears so often.

Unfortunately this particular hopeful turned out to be another passage documenting the sacrificial burning of young children for a demon ritual. It disgusted him to notice the shiver he had been reacting with faded into a dull disconnect. To become so jaded was almost as appalling as enacting the slaughter himself.

This one finished his pile of ancient Sumerian texts. There were several piles in various languages both human and demonic in origin. He had a large number of untranslated documents. Before Buffy, his work for the council was majorly that of a translator. He had also made a small name for himself doing so. There were still third parties that requested his assistance now and again. They often sent only copies so some of the 'texts' were merely printouts stapled together. Generally he prioritized the originals sent his way but they were few when not of his own collection.

Shifting the papers and notes aside he reached for his mug needing the caffeine. Before taking a sip he removed his glasses and rubbed at his face massaging out the ridge between his brows and dragging his hand down over his mouth finally dropping it back into his lap. Gazing at nothingness ahead of him he lifted the mug in his other hand to his lips. Unfortunately it was empty of all but the cold sludge of leaf bits which escaped his numerous tea bags over the past several hours. 

_ Time for a top off then. _

His legs were unsteady when he stood. Too long sitting did that to an older body. He kept an electric kettle and tea bags in his office. All he had to do was make his way over there. Then caffeine could do its job keeping him awake. As he crossed the library he glanced at the clock on the wall. He wasn't far away from pulling an all nighter at this point.

_ Perhaps I should pull out the travel cot and catch some kip before morning. _

The thought only lasted a moment. Tomorrow was Saturday, no need to be up. Besides, he had to figure this out. He was a watcher, sworn to protect his charge. His charge was Buffy, the Slayer. She alone who stands between the darkness and the light. 

Whereas Willow, Willow was just a child. She was not chosen, she was not trained. She had no power to speak of other than a childish dabbling in the occult. In short she didn't deserve this. He had to know what Drusilla alluded at. 

He could be overreacting. It was entirely possible. Drusilla, insane as she is, could have been speaking nothing other than nonsense. Still he had to know for sure.

Tea made and doctored to his liking he settled back to the table where his work was spread. Tired to the extent he was, he chose the smallest pile there. Only one text, One of the copies sent from fellow scholars. He had only looked at it briefly when it arrived. It seemed to be a variant of Hebrew. Not one known by humans though it shared many words. He was the last ditch effort of the Sunnydale Historical Society after they deemed it untranslatable even with a native speaker on the team. Attached to the photocopy of the original document were several pages of typed notes. He ripped them off and set them to the side knowing they would likely be useless.

He knew the phrase for burning child and glanced through the pages looking for a reference. He found it in strange order. As might be expected from something declared 'untranslatable' it was coded. Giles sighed. If it wasn't clear already he knew now that it was going to be a long night.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

In the offices of the Sunnydale Historical Society blood trickled down the pail neck of the vampress Drusilla. She writhed with the fresh corpse of a security gaurd like they were the guests of honor at a macabre ball. Her haunting voice sang into the ear of the quickly cooling meal.

_ Burning child ov' Avraham _

_ Heartless scion ov' Cain _

_ I own your heart I'll drench her fire _

_ Mummy makes things right a'gain _

She let the words die off into humming as she drank deeply of the blood which still remained. Light sobbing came from behind her.

"Please miss" A voice begged between sobs. "Won't you please let me go?" The trembling figure pulled her eyes and she dropped her first victim to scold him.

"Shush now rabbit, it's not yet your turn to play." The glossy yellow eyes of hers were empty as they stared his way. They looked at once both at and through him.

The visiting archeologist reached for the Star of David over his neck. He grasped at it desperately with ochre hands while praying to his God that he might still be saved from this demoness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for brief use of explicit language, and light substance addiction reference

Early mornings were the very best for getting things done. Waking before the sun meant Joyce could take her time getting ready for the day. Being Saturday, today it meant she could make a nice breakfast for Buffy and Willow. 

Pancakes were always a fantastic topoff to a sleepover in her experience. Then again she took most of her fun in the making off them and the rest of it in her daughter's happy expression. Her fork scraped against the metal mixing bowl while she worked. Willow was a wonderful girl, so much more pleasant than the company Buffy kept in LA. 

A smile bubbled up from her thoughts. Aside from the vampire slaying thing, which she was still adjusting to, things really had been better for them both here. Buffy's grades were better than that last year at Hemry. Even if it was only enough to be passing in some classes it was progress she treasured. Joyce knew Willow was mostly the reason for that. She looked out into the backyard as the horizon started to color with the rising sun. It had definitely been the right move coming to Sunnydale.

"MOM!"

Metal clattered against the counter and batter spilled out onto the counter. Joyce ran out of the kitchen and to the stairs. She dropped everything at the sound of her daughter's panicked voice. Her motherly protectiveness was kicking into overdrive. "Buffy what is it?" She shouted. "Are you okay?"

"Don't come up here!" Immediately Joyce halted on the third step. Her instincts were screaming to go to her only child but things had changed recently. She learned things she had never wanted to know. If Buffy didn't want her to go to her, there very well might be a perfectly rational reason for it. 

"Just listen to me." Her daughter's disembodied voice continued. "Call Giles tell him to get here as soon as possible." There were a few grunts and a slam against the wall. Joyce gripped tight to the banister but didn't dare move. "Then I need you to pull all the curtains closed and leave for a couple hours. Can you do that?"

_ Call Giles. Close windows. Go out. Simple enough. _

She hoped.

"Of course sweetie." She forced her voice not to tremble then set about covering the windows between her and the phone. She tried really hard to not think about what might be going on up there.

"Oh and mom?" Buffy's shouting filtered into the downstairs. "Tell Giles to bring pig's blood." Another thud, this time it was hard enough to shake the hanging picture frames. "A lot of it."

Joyce breathed deeply before typing the librarian's number into the phone. She didn't dare question where Willow was through all of this. She was pretty sure she didn't want to know.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Cordelia watched Xander's still form on the bed. the anesthesia from surgery still hadn't worn off but it would soon hopefully. She stayed up all night waiting to hear how the operation went. Using her dad's connections, she had the best neurologist in California flown from Sacramento for it. 

Despite affirmations that people often survived much worse she still had been petrified Xander wouldn't make it. It wasn't that he was in terrible danger. Instead it was that she felt so useless. She wasn't any help finding him, and didn't have the strength to be there for a rescue even if she was. Buffy was the Slayer, Oz a werewolf and Angel a vampire. Her and Xander were the only humans. Giles was kinda but it didn't really count with all the watchering and Willow, hacking skills aside, had been seriously witchy lately. She should take Xander pack their bags and get far away from this mess. Maybe then she wouldn't end up sitting in a hospital all night.

Her eyelids were increasingly heavy. The lack of sleep was starting to get to her. Still, she was going to hold out. She had to be here when he woke up. She just had to. 

He shifted in the bed to which she focused all her attention. Gripping his hand, she tried to reach him as he woke.

"I'm here, Xander I'm here."

"W-willow?" 

"It's Cordy." She grimaced but fought through it. They had been taken together after all. He might even think they are still there. Trapped. She brushed a hand over his forehead and cheek. "Willow's safe Xander, don't worry you both are safe now."

"That's good." He slipped back into the heavy sleep only brought by medical grade opioids.

She kept his hand between hers for some time. Letting herself indulge in the sensation of his skin. It was amazing to hear his voice. She had spent far too long taking him for granted. All she really wanted was to have him be cognizant enough to tease her about the state of her hair and makeup right now. 

_ God I bet I look awful. _

Xander woke for a second time about half an hour later. He called out for Willow again to Cordelia's disappointment.

"No Xander it's Cordelia." She bit back the hurt as best she could. "Can I get you some water or anything?"

Xander scrunched his brow but kept his eyes closed. "I'm okay." He drifted back to sleep under her watch.

Cordelia had fallen asleep by the next time Xander stirred. She was in a chair pulled up as close as it could be to his bedside. Her one hand was still wrapped around his, but her head was laying next to it on the side of the bed. He took in the scene through sleepy eyes. 

It was the first time since his surgery that he was conscious enough to actually see Cordelia there. At first the sight made him warm. Lifting his free hand took some effort. He felt glued to mattress. Medicated relaxation adding weight to his limbs.

When he touched her hair the warmth faded. Memories clicked into place of stolen touches and more than one illicit kiss. It settled into a guilt ridden unease when her eyes fluttered open. Beautiful brown seeked out his own instead of piercing green.

"Xander, hey." She spoke softly.

"Hey." He wasn't particularly trying to be quiet but his voice came out that way.  _ Weak _ . Suddenly he was relieved his parents weren't the ones waiting up for him. 

_ Do they even know where I am? Do they care? _

He internally berated himself for that last one. Of course they did. They were his family. They had to care. Right?

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Spike woke needing a fix. With a vampiric constitution, it was rare he felt a physical need for nicotine. That being said it was instead probably a psychological need for comfort in the familiar that pulled him from his kip. He patted at his jacket where it was folded and left from the night before. Again he had climbed into the back of the DeSoto to rest his weary head. Eventually he found his carton of fags and opened it up.

One left.

_ Bloody buggering fuck, can nothing ever go my way? _

He peeked around the driver's seat to the one section of unpainted window. Sunlight was filtering through but it wasn't much. With the blanket and his duster he could probably nick some smokes with minimal burns to pay for it. Get some booze while he was at it too. He wasn't too far from sewer access and there was tree coverage most of the way to it. He shrugged to himself.

_ Made more dangerous trips for less. _

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Back at the Summers residence Giles pulled his car onto the property and shifted it into park. He grabbed the brown paper bag wondering just how hurt Angel must be. Joyce hadn't any enlightening information on the situation. He however, could draw reasonable conclusions from the evidence. Angel must have been gathering information for them. He likely wanted to share it in person but Buffy's home was the closest sunlight shelter. Hence why he was coming over here instead of Buffy meeting him at the library.

Manners bade him to knock but he knew Buffy expected him to enter on his own. The house was for all appearances empty when he entered. The only light was what sunlight peeked around his figure in the door.

"Buffy?" He called for her as he flipped the light switch and shut out the daylight.

He heard the thud of footsteps on the wooden steps of the basement. 

_ Yes, that makes sense. Safest place from the sun. _

He was still at the front door when the basement access slammed closed shaking the entire building by it's foundation. Buffy rounded the corner to which Giles found himself caught off guard. She was in a clear state of disarray. Her hair was in a tangle, which was highly uncharacteristic. She was in a tank top and sweatpants he was sure she must have slept in but they were ripped in several places. Underneath a few of those rips were bloodstains of surface cuts which had already healed over. 

Mesmerized by her state it hardly registered that she was running for him. She grabbed the brown paper bag and tore it open revealing the two plastic pints of blood inside. She looked back up at him with a frenzy. "This is all you brought?! I said a lot of blood Giles.  _ A lot!" _

"Morning at the butcher's is a terrible time for this particular product's stock Buffy. You must know that living on a Hellmouth. Surely Angel can survive until they resupply at noontime."

Buffy did more than scrunch her brow. She practically scrunched her entire face up. Brow nose and lips. "Angel? Who said anything about Angel?"

"The blood." He gestured towards the package in her hands. "I assumed he must be hurt and seeking refuge here. Am I mistaken?"

Her expression transitioned from one of confusion to realization and swiftly into a hard resignation he didn't understand. "No this has nothing to do with Angel." She set off back towards the kitchen. "Follow me Giles."

She first searched the cabinets stopping only when she found a wide salad bowl. Then she took the lids off of the blood and dumped the contents in. He watched her motions silently. 

_ Perhaps it's some spell of Willow's? _

But that made no sense either. Nothing involving blood was simple magic. Where was the other child anyway?

Buffy asked him to open the basement door and then stepped down cautiously as not to spill. He followed behind her hesitantly.

When he reached the foot of the stairs his questions were answered. Unfortunately it only led to having more. "Dear lord."

Willow whipped up her head to the noise, a growl came naturally from deep within her throat. Her head was the only part of her she could still manage a full range of motion with. The earlier scrap she had ended with her tied up too tightly to do anything. She was just so hungry. There were two warm bodies close to her now. This new one seemed older, weaker.  _ Prey. _

She pulled against her bindings trying to reach him. She barely moved by an inch. Still she kept pulling. All she could hear was the pulsing current of blood. All she could smell was the sweet elixir. So hungry.

"Buffy wh-what happened?"

"I wish I could tell you Giles I really do." Buffy inched closer to the vampire in Willow's body and put the bowl by her head. Immediately the beast dove for it as best she could. Buffy stepped back and continued speaking but refused to take her eyes off of the Willow beast. "I woke up with her at my throat." She raised a hand to her neck probably remembering the feeling of it while recalling the memory. One of the marks she still bore was a pair of parallel lines dragged across her neck and shoulder. It very well may have been caused by teeth. She looked at him then and he could tell she was scared. "This never should have happened Giles. She was completely normal last night, entirely Willow."

"Yes it does seem something extraordinary is at play here. If she were turned" He took off his glasses with one hand and reached for his cloth with another. "As it would seem she has been." He looked decidedly at his glasses and nothing else while he polished them. "She should by all accounts been dead before, well," He gestured with his glasses laden hand, towards the creature that may or may not still be Willow. "Being undead."

When he returned his glasses over his eyes he saw the set face Buffy had taken while appraising Willow. Her arms were crossed and her face neutral but her eyes were troubled.

"Why don't you clean yourself up." His charge turned to him with an innocent look that asked him if he truly meant it. It was the little expressions like this that made her seem more like a daughter than anything else. He nodded. "Yes, I can keep watch for now. You certainly did an impressive job restraining her."

Buffy gave a short snort of amusement. "Girl Scouts of America" She half heartedly saluted with three fingers up by her shoulder. "Taught me all about making the most of your situation."

Giles looked back at the mess of things restraining the vampiric girl. Duct tape, bungee cords, rope, even some electrical wiring seemed to be at use in the mix. "Certainly seems so."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Unsure of what else to do or how long she was supposed to be gone, Joyce was making her third lap around the grocery store. She had a cart full of both what the house needed, and things she picked up simply because she wanted to. She had decided to look at and maybe buy herself a bottle of wine when she saw him.

"Spike?"

The punk man turned around surprised but smiled warmly when he recognized her. "'Ello Joyce."

"So strange to meet you here,are you doing alright? Also weren't you more of a night creature." She looked towards the closest windows where bright sunlight lit the front half of the store. "Seems a bit bright out for you at the moment."

He shrugged. "Never been one for tradition. When you need a smoke you need a smoke. Cravings don't care much about the time of day."

"I can certainly relate to that. I had Buffy's father run rampant with my yen for weird milkshake flavors when I was pregnant with her." She giggled remembering a story. "There was this one time I wanted a pickle peanut butter shake but the peanut butter we had was no good. I couldn't even stand the smell of it. Hank came home with five bags of different craft peanut butters just so I could have what I wanted."

Spike had to smile at the woman. She was likely the nicest and most genuine human being he had ever met. As she spoke he let his eyes run over the things she had in her shopping cart. "Planning a party ate you?"

"Oh no no, just picking up anything we might need now while I'm out and about."

Joyce was acting nervous. It was strange to see when he had just been speaking to her so calmly. Usually it was his presence that made people nervous. That clearly wasn't the case here. "Everything all right luv?"

She considered lying but he seemed truly concerned. Curious in the least. It would be so nice to talk to someone about having a daughter who is the Slayer. "I think I know a cafe that doesn't see much sunlight. Care for a cup of coffee?"

"Not exactly." The depth of her disappointment suprised her. Spike might have noticed it too because he spoke up again not long after. "I might be up in a cup of cocoa though. That is if you're buying."

She smiled at him in answer. "I just have to make these purchases then I can meet you in the shade out back if you'd like a ride."

"Right um, think you could buy me a pack while you're up there? Didn't really think through things well and the sun's in the way of the tobacco."

"I don't really condone that kind of activity you know." She had a stern look and he was concerned she would say no until it lifted. "Sure. Think of it as a one time favor for my cocoa buddy."

As she left he realized he just felt intimidated by a human. Either he was seriously lacking lately or Joyce was one hell of a woman. He decided it was probably the latter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for brief violent fantasies

The ceramic mug was hot in his palms. Soothing heat seeped into his capillaries and diffused through his body. Warm air lifted from the surface of his drink in white lines of steam. He inhaled deeply, letting one piece of his addiction be sated. Off gas from a chocolate was a far cry from lit tobacco burning the throat, filling the lungs and thickening the blood, but it was nice.

Joyce hadn't appreciated it when he tried to light a stick in her sedan. Inciting a talk he didn't need about cancer and secondhand victims and laundry woes. Strangely it was half of what he liked about the woman. Wouldn't back down on a point just because he could snap her neck in seconds. Takes a spitfire for that kind of spunk.

"Marshmallows?" The woman in question sat down across from him with a dish of the mini treats off the counter. He gave her a nod and she served him enough to coat the top.  _ Perfect. _

He felt the first sip ignite his senses all the way down his throat. It was remarkably similar, for a cold vampire, to the burn of neat whiskey. Only this drink was not accompanied with crippling self loathing the way his alcoholic choices often were. Certainly had been while he was drowning himself the rest of this week.

The white spots in his cocoa swirled as he set the cup back down. Fluffy sugar dissolving into his sweet beverage. He looked around and took in the place now that they were both sitting. It was a hole in the wall establishment but the windows all safely faced north west just like Joyce had said. Without the threat of immolation he could actually enjoy sitting by the window in her company. 

The drink he had was surprisingly quality. All the way down to the fine china used to serve it. Interior decor fashioned the place more like a modern teahouse than an American coffee shop.

"So then." Joyce started over her cappuccino. "What's keeping you up?"

He scoffed. "Hard to get one by you Summers women innit?"

"I can't speak for my daughter but woman's intuition tells me not all's right in Spike's world."

"Don't you have places to be? Little kiddos to mother?"

She answered his instigation with composed ease. "I have a brief break in my busy mothering schedule." A teasing smile. "Plenty of time to talk." She took a sip before speaking again. This time less playful. "Bad breakup?"

He sighed, no point in fighting a losing battle. "The worst."

The pity in her expression was hard to bare but there was genuine caring there too. Reminded him a bit of his own mum. "They always feel like that honey."

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

The clatter of metal against concrete flooring rang out loud in the basement. A redheaded fledge licked the bowl clean before straining towards the small puddles she let escape to the cold ground. Thirst still dominated her thoughts but it no longer felt as if she were teetering on the edge of starvation.

The current of blood thumping through the body across the room was enticing but she discerned the smell now as something more familiar than food. The recognition ticked at the back of her mind. A side note. Nothing more than mild interest against more pressing desires. She pictured the rivulets of red over her hands and splattered around a rapidly cooling corpse. Imagining the feast laid out before her brought back her appetite full force.

Suddenly a muffled slam reverberated through the floor above her. She flinched in remembrance of the burns across her skin from up there. The scalding heat that permeated even dark drawn curtains. It was better down here. Cool, dark. Even restrained as she was, it felt safe.

Her ears metaphorically perked at the voice following in the next moment. "Willow?" She heard.

_ Willow. _

There were other words but this was all she understood of them. Willow was her and she was Willow. Little details were all that made sense. 

This voice came paired with a desire inside her. Desire unlike the omnipresent drive to rip out the bleeding tracheas of her countless victims and display them like trophies over her mantel. This sound was almost calming. A balm on the heart she kept unbeating in her chest. If it too was the bleating of prey she wanted the taste of this creature the most. She wanted to take that feeling inside her and keep it forever. It didn't feel like anything she could remember.

On the second floor Buffy was almost dressed when she heard Oz barge through the front door. "Willow? Buffy?" His voice was raised to make himself known. The volume of it very unlike him.

She threw her shirt on and rounded the corner out of her room following the hallway to the stairs. He was standing inside the door patiently. Though concern was written on his face.

"Is she awake yet?" His tone now was a better indicator to his normally stoic personality.

Buffy considered multiple ways to break the news. She found each version to be more lacking than the last. When Giles appeared from the direction of the kitchen she took his presence as a godsend. Silently, she thanked the PTB for their timely assist.

"I'm going back downstairs Giles. Could you bring Oz up to speed please and thank you?" She refused to wait for his response, instead hurrying to the basement door to sit vigil by her possessed friend. Because she couldn't be a vampire. Beyond making no sense, she couldn't lose her friend this way. She wouldn't survive it. So she fortified her blind hope. Giles would figure it out. Willow would be herself again soon.

Buffy seated herself just out of reach of her sick friend. Willow looked but did not react more than that. After their earlier scuffle there was an eerie sense of understanding between the two creatures. While their conflicting natures demanded rivalry both knew they would not fall to the hands of the other.

For her part Willow did not look at Buffy as prey any longer. Her smell was intoxicatingly tempting and she knew too well that nectar was hidden behind only a thin barrier of skin. Yet she knew much more strongly that she could not reach it. It was an untouchable treasure. A delicacy she would never be able to taste.

Her hunger grew and grew. Eventually she used the slight range of motion she had to kick the metal bowl by which she was fed before. It scraped across the concrete loudly.

Buffy huffed a breath. "I don't have any more to give you right now Wills. I'm sorry, it must be terrible what you are going through." She paused, thinking. ”That one time, when we all were caught in our nightmares, I wanted to kill so bad. I wasn't even a real vampire and the blood lust was still overwhelming." Willow just stared at her. No growling no straining. Like she had just given up. "Whatever this is must be worse."

The two stared at each other. Buffy's eyes had the glisten that warned of eminent tears. Her friend's had a sheen, gold and dangerous.

Willow again kicked the metal bowl. Buffy was dismayed. There was a moment there she thought they had a connection. "You can't even understand me. I'm so sorry." Sitting here and seeing her friend reduced to this. She couldn't do it anymore. The Slayer took the bowl and stood. "I'll see what I can do to get you more."

She was reaching for the handle when the door pulled back on its own. Oz stood on the other side of the frame. "Move Buffy… please."

She nodded and turned sideways on the step. He slipped past her and down into the basement. She could hear the shuffling as Willow tried desperately to reach him. It was not the same desire driving her as it had been yesterday. That thought haunted Buffy as she stepped up the rest of the way and closed the door behind her.

Oz was not shocked by the scene that met him at the foot of the basement stairs. Giles had done his best to prepare him for it.

At the landing, right after Buffy left them, Giles effected a fatherly stance. It took some time before he started talking.

"Willow," He paused to clear his throat. Oz could tell immediately it was nothing good. "Is not herself at the moment. She seems to, at the very least, be under the effects of a spell." He paused in an attempt at pacing himself. "As such Buffy saw it fit to restrain her. I must say, for our safety as well as hers, it is best she stay that way."

Giles wouldn't look Oz in the eyes. He did his best to explain the situation. He didn't actually understand it enough to explain.

"Where is she?" Was all Oz asked.

"In the basement with Buffy." He was already moving for the stairs when the older man caught him by the arm. "She isn't Willow." He said darkly. "She might never be Willow again."

Oz returned the comment with a steely glare. Giles closed his eyes to it. He let go of the air in his lungs at the same time Oz felt the fingers loosen over his bicep.

He knew what he was in for coming down here. Knew it when Giles warned him. Knew it when he caught the wet eyed Buffy on the steps. Now he saw it.

Willow was wild. Yellow eyes of a demonic visage glared daggers through his body. Her normally straight red hair was tangled and staticy. Almost like it looked when she first woke up but less cute and more unruly. She was wearing pajamas and fluffy slipper socks that were stained with splashes of red. He didn't need enhanced senses to know what that was.

"Willow." He said to her softly. "Willow it's me, it's Oz."

She snapped and strained at the mix of cords holding her back. To Oz's credit he didn't twitch, just closed his eyes as not to watch her snarling, but he heard it. And hearing it he imagined it. He had been smart to leave more than enough space between them. He was optimistic, not stupid.

Her louder aggression faded into a low growl before he opened his eyes again. "You'll make it through this Willow." He shared gently. "All the times you've been with me as I fought my own beast. I believe that you can do it too."

After Oz made for the basement Giles retired to the living room. He had far too little rest and it was catching up to him. 

_ Perhaps no one would mind if I rested my eyes for a moment. _

He hadn't so much as settled into the couch before Buffy made herself known. She seated herself heavily beside him and turned on the telly.

The blasted thing was playing nothing but adverts. Wasn't worth the effort of changing the channel to her. She didn't watch it, only gazed its direction. He waited for interaction, yet all she did was mindlessly, or perhaps emotionlessly, stared at the screen. For all intents and purposes she was ignoring his presence. He doubted it was from a place of loathing but it was unsettling regardless. He eventually resigned himself to turning his own brain to mush beside her.

Unengaged and tired, his eyes gradually closed with weighted lids. It was easy to let himself fall asleep as the drivle played across his ears. 

His dreams were unremarkable but peaceful. Attention returned when Oz and Buffy started discussing by the door in not so hushed tones.

"Giles said that they should have more by noon but there must be other butchers that sell blood right? I don't know how much vampires actually need. I just know she still seems hungry."

"I think Mr. Rosenberg mentioned a shochet off Main." 

"Is that like a Rockette?"

Oz's snicker was barely caught by his ears. "It's a butcher trained to be Kosher."

"Blood can be Kosher?" Giles rolled his eyes under the lids.  _ Buffy can be woefully ignorant.  _ Part of him swore she did it on purpose. He shifted himself over realizing that he was stretched out now to take up most of the couch. The telly was mutely flashing with the changing scenes. He watched it numbly while trying to convince his body to match his mind in wakefulness.

The program switched to news under his inattentive watch. He heard the door open and close followed by the sound steps returning his way.

"Morning." Oz sat down in one of the chairs before turning the sound back on with the remote. It grated at his freshly woken and sensitive ears.

"Is it still?" He wondered aloud while lifting himself to a seated position. His muscles were stiff from the awkward positioning inherent to resting any length of time on furniture not designed for it.

"Barely." And the boy shrugged. "Buffy just left to find more blood."

"Wouldn't it have made more sense for you or me to drive?"

"Said she was going to commision Angel if the butchers were still out." He raised an eyebrow to which Oz again shrugged. "Like asking a neighbor for spare groceries."

"I suppose you have a point." They watched the Sunnydale newscaster warn residents of nocturnal wild dogs with a particular penchant for biting human necks in silence. If he focused he could hear noise downstairs emanating from their captive. Whether she was victim or villain he had yet to decide. He knew how the other two felt of her. He eventually would need to be the one to draw a hard line.

"You seem to be taking this in stride." Giles offered as small talk to keep his mind from yet another failed pupil.

The lines of the boy's face deepened. "We are going to fix it."

"You need to be prepared for less savory outcomes Oz."

"We are going to fix it." Oz practically growled the repetition of his words.

"Yes, well that is the hope anyway." He looked back to the telly where his eyes were caught by the headline. "Turn it up." The teen rushed to adjust the volume, eager to not dwell on the subject they were broaching.

A reporter stood before the ashen skeleton of a partially collapsed structure. "I'm at the site of the Sunnydale Historical Society where local police are investigating the cause of this devastating fire. 

"As you can see behind me most of the structure was lost along with numerous historic texts and three members of the late night staff. The identities of the deceased have not yet been released.

"No information yet as to the point of origin. Theories, however, are circulating that it was a deliberate act of anti semitic terrorism. This argument is supported by the fact that the society was scheduled to unveil a Judaist exhibit later this week.

"If you have any information, local authorities urge you to call the number listed below. As always, we will keep you updated on the incident as we learn more. I'm Morgan Christensen and this has been Sunnydale Crime Watch. Back to you Ian."

Oz watched the newscast solemnly. He started ruminating halfway through the program. 

The deaths were written off as inconsequential. Another number that people are too desensitized to care about. The only crimes considered gripping enough for this segment were petty thievery, vandalism and apparently suspected arson. People died every night but no one cared to make note. Living in a place like Sunnydale, murder was never the focus of any news story. 

Likely a product of serial killer demons crowding their streets. Don't ask a politician though. To them the dwindling population problem was all video game culture. The mayor part of the strawman argument too. 

_ Granted video games do seem more plausible than vampires and witches and werewolves. _

Oz had just tacked on the 'Oh my!' to the end of that thought when Giles jolted to his feet. "I have to go to the library right away."

"What should I tell Buffy?" He didn't ask the why. It was clear Giles was going to help. He would be better off getting to work faster than staying here and explaining things to him.

"Tell her to stay in. I'll call as soon as I've found what I'm looking for." Oz watched him slip on his tweed with a grace not normally attributed to librarians. "If I'm right then we might have an answer to Willow's problem sooner than expected."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for brief but graphic depictions of gore

Finally at the library Giles rushed to the work he had set aside last night. When he had started yesterday, the table had been mounded with books and papers. Now however, he had gone through at least half of the texts. The resulting spread was a vastly diminished, though largely unorganized, pile of books and papers. Right now he only cared about one of the many.

He found it under a mug of cold tea made only minutes before being called by Mrs. Summers. 

Giles breathed out a sigh of relief once he had his hands the paper again. He didn't own the original. This document was not even professional copy, merely a printer paper scan. Where the image of parchment ended it cut to the original white from a mid-tone gray. Little black dots were scattered over the printout. Imprints of dust or dirt that had been caught in the machine. All of this combined with the block script being faded from age made it a difficult read. Unfortunately, this might well be the only copy left in existence.

It occurred to him while watching the news that someone may be trying to prevent the Slayer from learning what was in this text. It was too convenient that the phrase Drusilla used to describe Willow would be in one of the works to go up in flames.

He was quite sure that Drusilla understood knowledge is power. She was a dangerous creature yes, but her foresight brought the true challenge she was. In burning the historical society she was attempting to limit who had this knowledge. It could be very dangerous for him if she learned this copy existed.

Translating this was paramount to understanding the events of late. He just hoped that it might shed light on a reversal to this curse as well.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Willy was out taking a delivery when Chip roused himself off the couch of the living quarters in the back. The larger man ambled into the bar area as Willy struggled to shift a wooden crate out of the sunlight and into his place of business. Few people consider how much work goes into maintaining this type of establishment and Chip knew his friend worked himself ragged to keep his customers saited, human and demon alike. He had told him hundreds of times that he should hire someone. To do daylight maintenance if nothing else.

Of course Willy was too much of a cheapskate for that. Not to mention hiring anyone involved some modicum of trust. He had been handed the short stick too often in life to trust most anyone. Chip was one of the rare exceptions. Possibly the only one that was left actually. The lanky man resorted to twisting the load into the building with one corner always on the floor. When the package, half his size, was finally clear of the doorway the industrial door slammed itself shut with a resounding thud.

Chip outright laughed when Willy jumped at the noise. “Yeah, yeah laugh away at the scaredy cat. Just help me with this would you?”

They shifted around so that both could grip at the container. It lifted easily between the two of them. Neither mentioned that Chip shouldered the brunt of the weight. They knew without saying that Willy still holding on was more for the remnants of his ego than anything else. Chip had no problem spoiling him in this small way.

The two dropped the crate onto the bartop and the bottles clinked inside as the contents settled. Willy stepped away breathing heavily. “Thanks man.” He managed out between gasps. 

“Anytime.” 

Willy slipped behind the bar and started unloading his liquor onto the shelf. Chip stuck his hand in and pulled out a bottle. 

“I thought you were getting a shipment of top shelf today?”

“This  _ is _ the top shelf.” He spun around and took the bottle right out of Chip’s hand. “I don’t have the money to sink on better spirits only to have them be broken or stolen within a week.”

“Point taken.” Chip reached behind the counter and grabbed an unlabeled bottle of a deep opaque red. “Mind if I help myself?” 

Willy looked like he was about to deny him but Chip had already grabbed a snifter into which he was pouring his liquid breakfast. 

“Sure be my guest.” Willy didn’t have much power to enforce otherwise. “I’ll make another trip out to restock.” He went back to moving bottles around.  “It’s a nice thing you are off the good stuff.” He said said a moment later with a chuckle. “That would be a lot harder to get my hands on and if I couldn't then I might be in trouble.”

“Don’t joke about that Wilek. You never saw the worst of it.” 

“No I just dealt with the mess you were after.” He made a face. “And don’t use that name here  _ Charlie _ . I haven’t been him for a long time.”

Chip looked up from his cup. “You know I’ll stay tight lipped on your past if you keep quiet with mine.”

“I know that man, and you won't hear me blabbing." The corner of his mouth tipped down in a frown. "Just don’t like hearing that name.”

“Oh come on, never used to bother you. You know you’ll always be little Wilek in my eyes.”

He grimaced but it fell away to amusement when he saw the teasing glint in the younger looking man's eyes.

“Just don’t go throwing that name out when people are around would ya?”

Chip snickered. “It’s like you’ve forgotten who taught you the information game.”

“I didn’t forget anything.” ‘Wilek’ shot back with a smile. “You were learning yourself as far as I recall.” 

“Still was always a hell of a lot better at it than you.”

The playful argument died off after that. They were both content in this level of childish reveilery. If they let it go any farther it could easily become depressing. Neither one had a particularly pleasant set of circumstances leading them to where they were today. Had their paths not crossed when they did Willy was sure one or both of them wouldn't have survived this long. He definitely would be old news by now if he didn't have his big brother to back him up.

Chip had finished off the bottle by the time Willy put the last of his new stock on the shelves. There had only been blood for three short pours. Not near enough. Chip wouldn’t touch the fresh stuff either. Willy never had gotten the story out of him as to why. But from the few glimpses he had into the vampire’s past he was no longer sure he wanted to know. 

“I’ll have to make a call to my guy to see about a special order. If you were thinking of staying a while I can pad the numbers.”

“Don’t do me any favors.” Chip said while using his finger to clean up the dregs at the bottom of the glass. He wouldn’t look up from the container. The slight lisp as he spoke made sure Willy knew all too well why.

“Way I see it, I’ll be doing myself a favor.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

  
  


Buffy hadn’t thought there was much that could make today weirder. She had been wrong. The tingling vampire warning at the back of her neck grew as she drew closer to home. It wasn’t until she left the house she had even noticed that it was there at all. Willow was setting off the Slayer alarm bells. That fact alone did not bode well for their chances of getting the human girl back.  Since she was expecting it, the assault on her nerves did not come as much surprise. Had she not been it may have given her forewarning of the other vampiric visitor. Because as she shortcutted through the greenery into the backyard, who was standing there but Spike. 

In broad daylight. 

On her back porch

… With her mom?

“Buffy!” Her mother called to her and waved. Spike stilled beside her. Buffy caught his flinch as he looked over his shoulder at her way. 

_ Better be scared. Told him he’d be dust if he showed his face here again. _

Without hesitation she drew her stake and dashed for the house. He barely had any time to react. Instinct alone had him jumping back and raising his hands. By the time an angry maternal voice registered, whittled wood was in the place his heart had been seconds before.

“Buffy Anne Summers!”

Buffy glanced from the vampire to her mother. She was standing with her arms akimbo and sporting a frown. 

“What are you doing mom? Run!”

“I will not!" She claimed sternly. "And  _ you _ will stop threatening my guest with bodily harm!”

“Your guest?” Buffy asked dumbfounded. “Mom he’s a vampire!” The shriek in her voice had her sounding fifteen again.

“Double standard that." Spike butt in uninvited. "You mean to tell me I  _ don’t _ smell another vamp in your basement?”

“There is what?!" Her mother shouted before Buffy could shut the annoying vampire up. "Buffy is this why you made me leave the house this morning? I wont have you housing monsters in our basement!”

“Mom you are literally having tea with one!”

“And he was being quite cordial." Buffy was taken aback by the defense. " _ You _ , however are not.”

Oz peaked his head out the kitchen door. “Is everything okay out here?” His expression grew puzzled when he saw Spike standing in the sunlight but he said nothing of it. He took in the scene and let his eyes turn back to Buffy for an answer.

“It’s being handled Oz. Go back to Willow.” Spike’s brow perked at the mention of her friend. The unnatural interest made her stomach lurch.

“Okay.” Oz replied. “Giles went back to the library. He said to stay in.”

“What’s wrong with Willow?” Her mother asked once Oz was back inside. “Does it have something to do with the vampire in the basement?”

“Is she okay?” Spike added softly. 

Buffy deigned it necessary to give him a solid glare. She truly wished looks could kill since she was currently barred from using her stake.  “No thanks to you.” The words came out like venom.

“Spike?" Her mother cautioned "Did you do something to Willow?”

Spike legitimately looked embarrassed in front of her mom. Now  _ that _ was a sight worth seeing.

He ran a hand through his hair and then rubbed awkwardly at his jacket sleeve. “I think I'd best be leaving.” Tried to casually step off the porch but Buffy caught him by the bicep on the first step.

“Not so fast. How are you here right now?”

“I drove Slayer." He said it like it should have been completely obvious. "Took my car cross country right through the prettily painted new Sunnydale sign. Then I ran into your mum at the store. She's a helluva socialite." Buffy didn't miss the smirk he shot over her shoulder.  _ Is he seriously flirting with my mom right now? _ Made her want to punch him all the more. 

He continued the story with an air of innocence that shouldn't be possible for a murderer of his caliber to pull off. "Lost track of time is all. I'll get out of your hair now."

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. “No Spike. How are you  _ here? _ " She stressed the last word to make her point. "As in right right now. As in under direct sunlight and not all with the dusty.”

“Oh that…" Spike looked up into the bright sky and squinted. Buffy had let go of him so he took his hands and shoved them into his pockets effectively making himself look half a size smaller. "Don’t rightly know." As he said the words he shrugged and looked back at the two Summers women. "Not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth though.” He gave her a toothy grin.

She grabbed him again despite her mother's loud protests and reached for the door. “Get in here. You aren’t going anywhere until Giles gets back.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Willy took the main entrance into his bar and shut the door behind him. There was a blue green overlay on his vision after the bright California sun outside. His eyes would adjust to the low light soon but for the moment he was moving mostly by memory. 

He shouted down the hall and stairwell to where it opened up and Chip would be waiting for him, or maybe napping. Either way he felt better giving the vampire ample warning he was coming. "Stopped at the butchers on my way back. Thought I could mix pig in with the human to make it last longer."

He hung up his jacket and shuffled down the hallway. There was a large padded cooler on one arm of arms and a few plastic bags in the other hand.

"But that’s not even the highlight of this story. Listen to this: the _Slayer_ was ahead of me in line buying the same thing. Dunno what it means but I doubt her and her honey are the type to buy each other’s groceries."

He stepped out from the stairwell into the bar and immediately dropped his bags.

Drusilla jumped in excitement and clapped her hands. “Another birdie come to join the game.” 

One look at Chip had him dry heaving. His friend was a bloody mess, bruises and lacerations were everywhere. He was spread out on his back over one of the larger tables. Skin was pulled back in large swatches and left hanging. the skin came in a variety of lengths and thicknesses. Some tore all the way down past muscle to his body's inner workings. There was enough blood loss by this point that what was left oozed slowly out of the wounds thick like jelly. 

"Can you see him little watcher?" Drusilla dragged her finger through the viscera and put it in her mouth. On the table Chip convulsed with her hand inside him. A human would be long dead at this point.

Drusilla’s eyes fluttered closed like the taste was a delicacy. They blinked open slowly, sitting behind a fog. She frowned. "This songbird won't so much as tweet."

Her unfocused eyes snapped to Willy. She stepped closer. "Would you sing for me little birdie?"

The red and purple head shaped blob on the table lolled sideways by the neck which was swollen enough that the jawline was not distinguishable anymore.

Chip’s lips moved to no sound. Willy didn’t need to hear it to know what he was saying. 

_ Run _

Drusilla didn't chase him. Instead she turned her attention back to her project on the table. She looked at the painting of gore with a face that did nothing to mask her discontent. _Why hide away intestines where you can't see them?_ Unsatisfied and confused by the interruption she spoke to her captive audience of one. "I think that one has little monkeys in the head."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for major character harm

Buffy came out from the kitchen with three mugs. She passed one to Spike, with a pointed glare, one to her mother and kept one for herself. She deliberately sat across from him. Palpable tension charged the air between the two mortal enemies, but her mother cheerfully ignored it. The older woman pretended instead that a long lost friend had come to visit.

Spike's eyes were trained on the Slayer as he brought his mug to his lips. He was going to take a sip of the disgusting animal blood she gave when he recoiled. He had caught a whiff of the contents and that was more than enough to tell him something was off. Joyce, ever the hostess, noticed right away.

"Something wrong with your drink?" She shifted her attention to her daughter and lost the saccharine hospitality. "Buffy what did you give him?"

"S'all right Joyce." He offered without prompting. "The little lady just caught me off guard by giving me what vampires actually drink." 

Her eyes widened then flashed back to her daughter's when she saw the red within his cup. To Buffy's credit she shrugged. "It's what they drink."

Spike, of course, had not been entirely truthful. Sure the blood was a pleasant surprise but what had actually deterred him was the chopped garlic the hussy of a slayer had mixed in just to be a bitch. He gave her points for originality though. It was actually kind of clever, to be a proper guest he'd have to drink it without a fuss. He could always play it off by getting the Slayer in trouble with mum but he didn't want to piss her off just yet. Fortunately for him, he had another out, he was not a typical vamp. He actually liked the burn of garlic. Tasted it the first time fresh outta the blood of a Roman when he was a fledge and couldn't get enough of it since. Nothing like a touch of pain to get that dead heart metaphorically beating.

Buffy watched him intently, curious about what he was going to do. She was goading him to do something she could justify kicking him out for. Accepting the challenge eyed the Slayer and downed the sup in one slow deep drink. Partway through his upper lip twitched with the desire to extend his fangs. He eyed the feisty blonde staring daggers his way imagining her taste. One day he would know her blood. Today was just another appetizer before their final dance.

When the mug was emptied he released a dramatic 'ahh.' He accentuated it the way the trollops always did in soda or ale commercials, eyes closed like the flavor was something to savor. To his satisfaction the Slayer looked practically constipated at the display. He wasn't able to help himself and sneered her direction with his tongue tucked behind his front teeth. She turned pink fast and in seconds was contemplating the color the walls were painted.

_ Spike one Slayer zero _

Joyce was slightly confused by the exchange and looked back and forth between the two trying to understand what had transpired. The hard knock on the front door was a welcome distraction and she hopped up to her feet faster than her daughter could recover.

"It's probably Giles mom. He said he'd be back as soon as possible when I was on the phone with him." Since her mother was answering the door she didn't need to get up but one look at Spike made her rethink that decision. The teenager stood up and was almost at the stairs when her mother opened the door.

Yet another unexpected visitor was at her doorstep. The man's beady eyes sought hers out immediately. "Slayer you gotta help me."

His words didn't register. She was still caught up in what he was doing here. "Since when does Willy the Snitch make house calls?"

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Spike didn't stick around long enough to see who was at the door. This was his opportunity. He snaked his way silently back to the kitchen while the Summers women were occupied. He found the basement door with no trouble since they came past it on his way in. The hinges screamed their need for oil with squeaks that he would have sweared filled the residence. 

Glancing around the corner he caught sight of Willy avidly attempting to convince the Slayer of something. His arms were flailing and she brandished that cocked hip look she wore so well. Willy caught his form and for a second Spike thought he was made. The problem was solved when he let his fangs fall. Willy's wide eyes quickly flashed away and back to Buffy. He lingered a second more threateningly.

Once he was satisfied he was safe for the moment the vampire slipped past the partially opened door and onto the basement steps. Frustratingly creaky steps grated at his nerves. They were thankfully covered by the voice tumbling up to him from below.

"Remember when I first realized I was a werewolf?" Oz said. Talking so much was out of character for him but Willow could often be calmed by words. Since he couldn't offer her physical comfort at the moment, this was what he gave instead. "I was terrified that I would hurt you so I kept pushing you away." A weak laugh tumbled from his throat. "You were so scared that we were breaking up that you showed up exactly where I didn't want you to be." He paused and looked to the girl he loved. She stared past him causing a piece of his heart to break off like a shard ripping at his insides.

"You saw me at my worst Willow. Not only my monster but me, the human. I didn't let myself trust you then." He paused for a moment. She was looking away from him, at the stairs towards escape. 

"We've come so far since." Oz shifted to place himself in her line of sight. Crouched in front of her, he smiled when her eyes actually focused on him. "I am going to do what you did for me. Even if we can't fix this, I promise I won't give up on you."

A harsh impact to the crown of his head cut the world to black. He dropped to the floor and in that last second as pain crashed through him he thought he saw Willow's tongue dart out to lick her lips.

Spike towered over the crumpled body with ceramic mug still in hand. He debated what to do now. Really the bitty vamp should feed while it's fresh, but the Slayer and her mum were just upstairs. Could be any minute they'd come looking for him.

"Ready to go red?" In response to his question she snarled and tugged on her restraints.

Mug forgotten, Spike crossed the distance in an instant and had his hands on her. One was attempting to soften her rattling while the other covered her mouth. "Hush" He told her. His tone instinctively mothering but firm. "We can't draw attention to ourselves right now, too dangerous."

She didn't nod or speak but she stopped struggling and let him get to work on her bindings.

The mess his childe had been tied up with quickly proved itself a right pain to untie so he used his fang instead, nipping through the worst offenders. Willow stared at him with wide eyes the entire time he worked. It wasn't until the moment she was free that he lost her attention.

She dove for the boy on the floor with a vengeance. Spike smirked at the evidence of a healthy appetite from the bit. Leaving the couple to their intimate moment he looked around the basement for something to cover up with. He had a fun playdate with the sun this morning but there was a greater chance of that being a fluke then there was for it happening again. After a minute of scrounging he spotted a tarp on the shelving on one side. 

_ Bingo.  _

The blue weave of plastic was in his hands and checked for holes in under thirty seconds. He swiftly tucked it under one arm and grabbed Willow with the other. She struggled against him flailing and squirming. He heard a telling tear of flesh behind him when she refused to let the boy go.

Spike spoke calmly while pulling her up the stairs. "Sorry Red. No time to let you finish, we need to get out of here."

He hissed and grit his teeth as Willow clawed scraped and bit at every inch of flesh he had uncovered and plenty of places he didn't. When he would check his clothes later that night he would find several new battle scars on the right arm of his duster and his undershirt mostly in tatters.

Buffy was nowhere to be scene when he peeked into the kitchen. Spike considered himself fortunate as Willow was making a decent amount of noise. 

Except the girl's complaints changed when he tried to encourage her beyond the door of the basement. Willow managed to slip herself from his grasp but rather than return to the pooling blood on the basement floor she became an immovable object. She took purchase of every handhold and blockade she could find on the stairs.

Light speckled over the kitchen through drawn curtains and around the frame of the door to the back deck. The demon inside her screamed in horror as Spike used his superior strength to tug her free of the dark doorway. Wood dimpled, splintered and finally ripped away from the house rather than hold her steady.

"You seriously going to let a little sunlight keep you here?" Spike goaded. In one swift motion he tossed the tarp over her and opened the back door. "Get out there." He shoved her into the light and she screamed. 

Willow could feel the skin sizzling off her flesh of her bare feet though she couldn't see it. With the tarp covering her face she had no idea where to go. She turned in circles of smoke desperate for some cover when suddenly a strong steady arm wrapped around her midsection. "I got you now, just hold tight and run fast. It'll all be over quick."

Her feet didn't stop sizzling but she did stop panicking. This person was calming. His scent was as delicious as the other male whose taste was still on her tongue. But her senses wanted to savor this rather than devour it. With this one she was content with only being near him. The same part of her that craved his presence cried out when he slipped away after a moment of fast movement. She heard a heavy clatter of metal on pavement and again she was shoved by her savior. This time it was into the dark.

Spike climbed down by the ladder when he heard Willow splash in the sewer below. He wasted no time resetting the manhole cover then jumped down to meet her. In the muck she was struggling to free herself from the tarp so he pulled it off for her. 

This was the first good look he had on her. Chit was stuck in nothing but flimsy pajamas and with a rat's nest of a hairdo. She looked at him silent and questioningly. Spike sighed with the full impact of his actions now on his shoulders. He hesitated for a second and then reached to pull her up from the ground. As soon as she was standing he let her go.

"This is all my fault." He suddenly blurted out at her. Shoving his hands in his pockets he looked down with shoulders shrugged. He realized then her lack of footwear. His failure as a sire stung all the more for it. "I should have been more careful with you." He admitted. "Waking under the watch of the Slayer must have been horrible." He paused to take an unneeded breath hoping it might settle him. "I'm sorry it wasn't me there."

She said nothing and he knew he deserved it. There were no apologies for fucking up so bad. 

Silence grew between as a canyon them. The only sound was the scurry and squeak of rats running through the tunnels and occasionally splashing through the water.

Eventually Spike broke it. He realized that there was nothing to gain from standing around feeling sorry for himself. He could at least be pitiful while on the move. "Come on." Spike encouraged. "We'll get you some real clothes and take a comb to the nest you're building." He felt he had finally done something right when she snuggled into the arm he put around her. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for torture reference

Buffy welcomed the distraction of the heavy knock on the front door. Her mother was thinking along the same lines, standing quickly to answer it. 

Buffy had started but settled back into her seat at her mother's nonverbal insistence. She shuffled in the seat. Her heartbeat still pumping from the embarrassment of Spike's crude look. Not only was it directed at her but done in front of her mother no less. He deserved a good slap and was about ready to give it to him. One glance at Spike's smug face made her forget that decision. Outrage or no, all she wanted was to get away from it. The teenager abruptly stood and was in the hallway by the time her mother opened the door. To say Buffy was surprised at who was on the other side would be an understatement.

The man's beady eyes sought hers out immediately. "Slayer you gotta help me."

For a moment she gaped, dumbfounded as to why Willy would come to her for help. Then she noticed the way his hands couldn't keep still. His left would grip over his right only to unlatch and swap places with the other. Words somehow found their way into her mouth and formed a coherent sentence. "Since when does Willy the Snitch make house calls?"

Joyce, recognizing that she was out of her depth, stepped aside and let her daughter come forward to address the stranger. The unassuming man hurried to reply while she found herself wondering who exactly 'Willy the Snitch' was and why she had never heard of him before. 

"I-I got no one else to go to you see." Not knowing what to do with himself he fidgeted, brushing his hands through his hair and making random gestures. "It's out of my normal fixer's league and you staked him last week anyways." His accent became much more evident as he rambled, speeding up his words and making his vowels more nasal the longer he spoke.

Buffy rolled her eyes while he went on. After which she finished the motion off with an edged glare. She hoped it impressed upon him how she was oh so very  _ not _ sorry for his inconvenience.

"So what?" She snapped impatiently at him. "You're here to tell me about a demon problem and I'm supposed to jump on that? How do I know whatever this is isn't a trap?" 

Her mind raced to the vampire in her living room. She didn't want to look though. That uncomfortable gaze Spike had seconds ago was bringing up a whole boatload of avoidance patterns she was more than happy to keep practicing for now. Instead, she focused on Willy and the problem at hand.

His eyes were wandering anywhere they could as to not look directly at Buffy. They caught to the right of her head during her questioning and widened dramatically by the time she said trap. Quickly his attention snapped back to Buffy's own eyes. The Slayer was taken aback by how hopeless and desperate he was in that moment. He looked like she had just threatened his life. She could have, and  _ had _ threatened his manhood in the past but this fear was already here, and she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with her.

"You have to believe me Slayer. I ain't got no money in this I swear." He paused for a moment as if a thought came to him and then quickly patted at his person looking for something.

He found what he wanted in his left front pocket. At first it looked like a bunch of receipts until he started unfolding it with trembling hands. Her mother gasped at the same time Buffy realized what it was. Underneath the outer layer was a decent wad of twenties, fifties and as he went deeper there were even a few hundred dollar bills. The man struggled to flip through several of the papers until he stopped himself and instead shoved all the cash towards Buffy. Reflexively, her hands shot up to catch the mess that had become of the currency while her mind was in shambles. 

"Here." He told her hastily as he shoved off the bills. "So you know I'm not in it for the money."

The slayer could only open and close her mouth wordlessly. She was unable to comprehend the amount of money she had just been given without doing anything or even asking for it. There were a few times her dad let her borrow his credit card but that was abstract money. This was physical. How many shoes could this buy? It was way definitely more than she had ever held. It's not like she hadn't saved up her allowance for things she wanted before. This was just more than that. Too much to be mentally prepared to deal with it just yet. 

Her mother was the one to react while Buffy stood flabbergasted. "Buffy isn't going to take your money! An obvious sleaze like you can't have clean money and my Buffy is better than that!" She shouted indignantly. "I don't even know who you are and this is  _ my _ house and  _ my  _ daughter!"

If Willy was even capable of becoming more uncomfortable, he did it then. His voice was shaking when he spoke up, hoping to redeem himself. "Sorry miss, um, Mrs. Summers." He stuck out his right hand awkwardly only to take it away when it wasn't accepted. "Will. Or Willy, everyone calls me Willy. Pleased to meet you and all but I need to save my friend."

Buffy was shocked out of her trance at that word. "Friend? I didn't know you had those."

"I don't." He lashed back in reflex before mentally taking a step back. "I do, I guess. But it's just the one." He hurried to cover up the slip of extra vulnerability. "Point is he's in trouble right now." Willy gulped at the memory of what he was about to share. "Drusilla-"

"Drusilla?! Where is she?" Buffy was sure whatever was up with Willow had everything to do with the insano vamp showing up. If she could get to her and figure this out she could fix her friend.

"Back at my bar, the Alibi Room. She has Chip there and is-"

Before he could even finish talking Buffy was halfway down the street. She dropped the cash and built up into a sprint cross town as fast as she could. She knew where Willy's was and while the sun was high in the sky Drusilla should still be stuck there. Granted, that was if she hadn't managed whatever magic loophole Spike had. Her mind skipped for a moment at the name. Spike was back at her place and unsupervised. She grit her teeth but kept running. Between Spike and Drusilla she knew who the bigger threat was. Begrudgingly, she could admit Spike wouldn't hurt her mother, he was more direct than that, she hoped. As long as he didn't get hungry. That thought almost made her turn around but she kept running, there was no choice right now. Leaving Spike there was distinctly the lesser evil.

Back at the door Joyce and Willy stood staring after Buffy. Willy was watching with a wash of relief while her mother was gaping in disbelief. This was the first time she had seen her daughter pick up a sprint from a dead stop. The feat was nothing short of impressive. A part of her could only think of suggesting her daughter join the school track team. Unfortunately, reality had its way of settling in. The rapidly retreating form meant her child was off on her way towards some unfathomable evil. Which, in good conscience, she would not stand by and let happen. Joyce turned away from the silhouette shrinking on the horizon towards Willy, who had since bent over and was now recollecting his scattered cash. 

Joyce didn't think but rather acted on her protective instinct alone. One hand reached out to grip at the man's collar while the other grabbed the door. She stepped forward and outside, effectively slamming the house closed and jerking her horrid guest with her in one motion. She walked a few feet, dragging a noisy and irritating, not to mention squirming, package along behind her. Luckily he was a lanky guy, and therefore light enough for her to manage. Then she used the rotational force of her torso to whip him ahead of her and slam him, back first, into the driver's side of her car. He held his head and complained aloud but she resolutely ignored it to instead tell him what was going to happen. Voice stern, and broking no argument she said what needed to be.

"Now I don't know who you are, or what you do, but you seem to know my daughter and I can tell she doesn't like you very much. Knowing that, I think it's fair to say you know how scary she can be." Joyce took a second for whatever memories to surface within the man before continuing. 

"What you need to recognize is that Buffy isn't  _ half _ as scary as I can be. Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned." She towered over him in this position and could see on his face that her tall words were working. "So," she continued. "to stay on my good side you are going to climb into this car and show me  _ exactly  _ how to get to this bar you were talking about."

Willy nodded but didn't move. Belatedly Joyce realized she would have to back off a little first. She did so, stepping back and for a second dropping the tough facade she was unused to. Luckily the man quickly clambered up to his feet without noticing. Joyce stood her ground, head high, and watched him while he moved. After standing and staring at her for a moment, Willy ran around to the passenger door and shuffled into the seat. 

Joyce used that time to breath out her nerves in one long steady stream. Her heart was beating like crazy. For a second there she thought he was going to call her bluff for what it was but she stayed strong and he was the one to cave first. She could, and did, take some measure of pride in that.

Feeling more sure of herself she opened her own door and hopped in the car. She subsequently clicked her belt and turned on the ignition. Her hand reached for the shift knob but stopped when she saw Willy in his own seat, looking back at her. Joyce took her arms from their habits and crossed them over her chest instead. Again she stared. They sat there in silence, until Willy finally opened his mouth. "What?"

Joyce raised an eyebrow as if it should have been obvious. Which to her it was. "Seatbelt." 

Whatever he had been expecting her to say it wasn't that. He paused for a moment wondering if she was serious but she didn't move. Flustered he turned sideways and made a mess of grabbing the belt. He drew it over himself twisted but managed to click it and that was all that really mattered. He looked again at the Slayer's mom and thankfully she was satisfied by this. One hand returned to the wheel and the other to the gear shift and smoothly slipped it out of park into reverse as if nothing had ever happened.

They were just far enough away by the time Willow's blood curdling scream hit the air not to hear it. Caught in the action Joyce had forgotten about Spike being at the house. Willy had not forgotten but rather was keeping mum so as not to earn himself a painful death at the hands of William the Bloody. He had no idea what the couple was doing back in Sunnydale but he very much wanted to minimize his part in it this time around.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Giles pulled his car into the driveway Summers' residence. He knew Buffy had sent her mother away earlier but was surprised to not see her back yet, it was passed midday by now. While reaching for his notes on the passenger seat he hoped that the blood Buffy had gone out for would have helped calm Willow. If it hadn't that might be why Joyce was out again. 

With a few reference books and the text he was certain they needed in a Manilla envelope he walked to the door. He shifted the books in his hands to knock but something at his feet caught his eye. Juggling the books as he bent to look closer was no easy feat but with years of experience under his belt he managed. Caught under the door was a fifty dollar note. It fluttered in the breeze fruitlessly from its prison. Perhaps Buffy had dropped money on the way back from the butcher's? No way to know without asking. Mentally he shrugged and tugged out the American bill.

Within seconds he had knocked to announce his presence and stepped inside. "Buffy?" He called before setting down his things and taking off his jacket. He continued loud enough that he might be heard. "I found something you should know about, a prophecy." He heard no footsteps coming his way and so headed to the stairwell. "Buffy? Oz?" He spoke into the basement as he moved down onto the first few steps. 

"I think there is a way to reverse what has happened. I just need a little more time to decipher the phrasing of this text-" Giles stopped at the bottom of the stairs having lost all breath in his lungs. "Good lord." 

Hastily he ran to the side of his student. All he could hear was his heart beating and the corresponding blood rush in his ears. He hoped with everything he had that there would be a pulse as his hand reached for Oz's closer wrist. His thoughts rushed. How many times would he have to see this? How many fresh corpses would be in his arms before he went insane with it all. 

Tears built up in his eyes and his focus wavered with the thought of Jenny. Her body staged on his bed, her heat dissipating in his arms. He couldn't handle another, not with just having lost Willow. It was too soon.

There. A beat. Faint and failing but there it was. By some miracle Oz was still alive. He ran back upstairs to the phone on the kitchen wall. His fingers couldn't move as fast as his mind but he found the numbers anyway. Once paramedics were on route he grabbed the closest towel to staunch the blood flow and went back to the boy's side. As long as Oz was struggling to live he would do what he could to help.

Hopefully wherever Buffy was she was faring better than her friends.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The Slayer stood victorious. Bloody, battered and bruised she stood victorious. It was the hardest fight of her life this far but she had made it out alive. She used her unwounded hand to pull the blood matted brown hair out of her dark eyes and continued walking to the house of her watcher.

This Slayer wasn't Buffy, nor was it Faith. No, this Slayer was in fact long dead. Only she wasn't in the mind of one Charles P. Griffiths. See, There are only a few ways to endure prolonged torture without going insane. Most methods require intensive training, but there is at least one that can be obtained by anyone with enough effort. The theory is to find a place so deep within yourself, within your mind, that the pain can't reach you there. For the vampire Chip, that place was not hard to find. Though it was physically far away, it was a place close to his heart. 

His place of escapism was across the continent and over the ocean all the way to the country of Portugal. Portugal of 1961 to be exact. A bizarre place of comfort for most anyone, but it was his. At that time Portugal had been under the rule of the Salazar dictatorship for 35 years. Wrought with economic hardship and poverty it wasn't a terribly pleasant place to live. In the same year independence movements started popping up in the Portuguese colonies of Angola, Guinea-Bissau and Mozambique. Colonies that would mark these conflicts as their war of independence in future history books. For Portugal proper, war stretched finances and government attentiveness allowing conditions within the country to only grow worse. Yet none of that mattered in Chip's torture addled mind, because that was the place and year he met her.

Called when she was already 17, Maike was, needless to say, an atypical Slayer. To the contrary, James P. Griffiths, was a typical watcher, and the father of one Charles P. Griffiths, otherwise known as Chip. Charles hadn't wanted to leave England that year. He couldn't care less about the Council or the idea of a sacred duty. He wanted, like many his age, to spend his days with his friends playing Rugby and hitting the pub. Unfortunately, his father had a different life in mind for him, and so too did fate. Chip was made to follow his father, in order to learn, first-hand, what it was to be a watcher. He was to shadow the work of an active retainer. He was never to interact with the girl beyond what was necessary. He was forbidden to engage with her outside official council duties. Was never expected to befriend her, and he most certainly was never sanctioned to fall in love with her, nor her with him.

Being with his love in his mind was all he needed in the present. Willy was gone. Had run away like Chip had pleaded for him to. The last person, alive or undead, that he cared about was safe from the elder vampress. Knowing this he could be content with the phantom of Maike in his arms. His spirit could survive until Drusilla was finally done with him and he died. What waited for him after that he couldn't know. He only hoped that Maike would be there.

Fantasy took shape, took color and overwhelmed his reality. The memory of her became so vivid he could swear she was really there with him. Not in his arms but slamming open the door to save him. She stood strong and confident like he remembered her always being.

That Vailkery she was coming back from her cruciamentum. That destroyed form but shining spirit. She was a force of nature, always had been. Inches from death she smiled at him, showing him her broken teeth and cracking her cut lip she smiled anyway. 

"Você me desculpa por chegar atrasada."

_ I'm sorry I'm late. _

All the things she could have said and she says _sorry I'm late. _In that moment he gripped her and pulled her close to him, running his hand through her long brown hair. "Está desculpado." _You're_ _forgiven._ He had said into the top of her head and didn't stop there. "Tudo bem, tudo bem, everything's okay now." It was in his arms that she finally let go and cried. He did too.

And here she was again for him. Here to take him to whatever awaited him in death. True death.

"Maike" He mouthed her name to her firey spirit across the bar. It was the movement, and not the noise, that caught her attention since he couldn't use his broken voice box to speak. He was dead or dying but it didn't matter, she was here. Disgusted horror grew across her face from the bloody sight of him. It morphed into raw fury he hadn't expected. In seconds that fury was directed solely at Drusilla. Watching the fight in her eyes he fell into oblivion. It was a beautiful sight to see in his last moments. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for bloodplay and reference to gore

The smell of death preceded Buffy's entrance into the Alibi Room. She steeled herself before stepping inside but still almost retched at the sight that met her. When that mess of gore moved she tasted bile. The barely contained reflux burnt her throat as it dropped back into her stomach. If this is what Willy had seen then she could understand now why he was freaked enough to come to her. Buffy turned her gaze up to the demon in the room and let her features tighten in anger.

Drusilla addressed her calmly, or as calmly as can be expected of an insane vampire.

"Sunshine s'got her invitation after all." She paused to clean off one of her hands with her tongue while Buffy watched in disgust.

"I'd be more than happy to show the sunshine your ashes Drusilla."

The vampire gave one long last languorous lick before looking the slayer right in the eyes. Buffy rushed to look elsewhere, anywhere else. 

"Silly girl." She wore a viscously confident smile. The kind that would frighten most, even without the horrific setting. "Sun s'got no power in the dark."

With that a blood curdling sound escaped her lips and she jumped the Slayer, claws out. A shiver ran through Buffy's body as it dodged backwards on instinct alone. The flurry of blows and slashes were a challenge to respond to even without actively having to remind herself of the danger in Drusilla's eyes. Admittedly, if Spike and Drusilla had been well at the same time last year she probably wouldn't still be alive. They were formidable on their own. Working together she wasn't sure she could imagine it.

Most of Buffy's effort was spent dodging but as the fight went on she found the onslaught more predictable. Enough so that she started parrying most of the attacks with her stake. She even was able connect a few blows of her own, though nothing major, and she couldn't seem to make her stake hit it's target.

"Why are you here Drusilla?" Buffy bit out between punches. "And what did you do to Willow?" 

"Me?" Drusilla's voice was steeped far too deep in innocence for a bloodsucking demon.

Unexpectedly the vampire jumped back and held up one hand signaling a time out. It was a ridiculous notion and Buffy was tempted to go after her anyway. Except curiosity, and thanks at being able to catch her breath, kept her planted where she stood. Instead of engaging she crossed her arms and affected the most put upon look she could manage while her chest was heaving.

Drusilla tilted her head to the side, listening to someone, or something, that was not there. When she spoke again, it was quiet. She spoke not to her audience of one but to whatever had just spoken to her. "Slayer has her rights and wrongs all messed up she does. It isn't natural."

Buffy cautiously stalked towards her and questioned her lightly. "What isn't natural?" She wanted to know, she was here for information, but at the same time... If she could just get close enough while Drusilla was distracted...

Dru whipped her head back and hissed. Her hands were yet again held as feral claws by her sides, the tendons in her fingers taut. Buffy knew all too well how dangerous those nails were. They had only managed to brush against her a few times yet there were obvious slices through her brand new cropped tank and jean jacket. She definitely was not going to be able to wear this outfit again. Which was a shame, because she was pretty sure she rocked the look and her allowance couldn't handle another mall trip.

While commiserating on her wardrobe, Buffy braced herself to continue their fight. That was until, Drusilla screamed out in pain. Buffy had yet to engage her, let alone hit her. Regardless, the vampire dropped to the floor with hands over her forehead. "No no NO!" Her exclamations grew louder until suddenly they just stopped and the vampire was still. 

Small sobs broke the silence. 

"She makes the blood burn she does." Dru let out through her tears. "It hurts. It hurts from the inside." The tears came faster the longer she went on. Buffy was too shocked or confused by the display to quickly respond. Muttering nonsense a bit longer Drusilla turned her claws on herself. The vampress began digging maddly into her chest. "Get it out get it out!"

Spurred on by an inability to watch anyone hurt themselves, Buffy snatched up the Drusilla's thin arms and trapped them together between her hands. "What's there?" Buffy demanded. "Who's hurting?" She couldn't look at this. She couldn't watch someone act so unhinged that they were a danger to themselves. It made her think back to her brief stint at the mental hospital in LA. So much pain and emotion.

Drusilla looked up and Buffy was unable to react quick enough. The two caught eyes. Instantly the Slayer stilled. The concern in her eyes dimmed to a blank stare as she was tangled within Drusilla's thrawl.

Drusilla leaned left and Buffy followed, mirroring her perfectly. She leaned right and Buffy did the same.

Face to face they gently swayed in time with each other. Golden vampiric eyes shifted softly into blue which only heightened their intensity.

"The fire isn't yours anymore." The mad vampire said matter of factly. "Not even to put out. Especially not to put out, I won't have it."

Buffy nodded dumbly. Her consciousness pounded away inside the cell that had become of her mind. Slayer senses screamed at her body to move but to no avail. She was disconnected. Watching herself as if her life were a movie. Shouting directions at the characters on the screen couldn't change what was happening. She was in the mental ward again. Drugged up on antipsychotics and sedatives after a terrifying Slayer dream. They had moved her to a single room after that and kept the door locked. White walls looming over her blocking her from the world outside.

She was helpless and alone, and it was terrifying. 

Strangely, Drusilla didn't take advantage. At least not immediately. She easily slipped from Buffy's now loose grasp, turned and stepped away. All without breaking eye contact. 

"Poor thing." She cooed. Facing Buffy's statuesque form from slightly farther away. "So scary being misunderstood." Her head tilted. "Want me to take it all away?" 

Buffy's heart skipped a beat. The part of her that was still there knew it was coming then. Knew that this was how it was going to end. She hated every aspect of it but the waiting was the worst. Waiting and being helpless to stop it. There was hope for some miracle that she would break from Dru's thrawl in the last second, but every second it held was another chip against her resolve. She was completely unable to move. Her mind raced to find hope. It was daylight so Angel wasn't coming. She hadn't stopped to tell Giles where she was going. Xander was hurt and Willow was why she was here. There was no hope.

Soon those fangs would meet her neck any instant now and it would all be over. Just like the Master had done to her, only this time there would be no rescue.

Drusilla stepped out of her line of sight but Buffy had no authority over herself to turn and see why. Just like at the hospital, her body wasn't her own. She would have shivered when the woman popped up again with her lips next to Buffy's ear, but she stayed still. And wasn't that the freakiest part? Because she didn't shiver, she couldn't.

Drusilla whispered something seemingly meaningless. Another crazy riddle that she wouldn't have time to puzzle out. "Three down and five to go."

Buffy's time slowed down in anticipation. Her heartbeat steadily pounding away, her breath disturbingly even. She could hear the rush of blood passing her ears as it continued supplying nutrients to her muscles. Unable to move she waited. 

And waited.

The fangs never came. Instead the vampire tingles on the back of her neck faded from aggressive needling to a soft buzz.

She had no way of knowing how much time passed. It could have been minutes or hours for all she knew. 

When the door swung open again Buffy would have jumped, if only she could. She had just started regaining her ability to move. A shuttering breath was the first thing that happened. Now adrenaline kicked up in her blood in a delayed reaction to the threat on her life. 

"Buffy!" From behind her her mother's voice called out quickly followed by rushed footsteps and cut off with a full body hug. Inevitably the two of them toppled to the floor when the Slayer didn't react to balance them. 

Her muscles twitched.

"Buffy?" Her mother took a second to catch herself after falling on top of her daughter. The woman flipped her over and Buffy could see as her eyes widened "Oh god Buffy are you okay?" Panic seeped into her voice. "What's wrong?"

She struggled to make her mouth work. "...'m okay… just... time." 

Joyce had no idea what was wrong but obviously her baby was hurting so she wrapped her arms around her and kept close.

Buffy would have hugged back with all her might if she could. Instead she just relished in the feeling of her mother's embrace. It wasn't as comforting as she would have liked. That memory of her parents betrayal at the surface of her mind. As she lay there a cold sweat worked it's way over her.  _ I really almost died. Why didn't I die? _

Behind the elder Summers Willy had also entered. Seeing the battered and bloody body of his friend on the table was enough to make him lose the contents of his stomach over the bar floor. Yet at the same time he was grateful for the sight. As horrific as it was, at least Chip wasn't so much dust. 

Drusilla had long since passed into the sewers. The glimpse into the Slayer's mind had unlocked something in her. A memory teetering on the edge of remembrance. Only one person could answer her questions, and that same souled vampire could pay for what he had done.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

"Won't you hold still for one bloody second?"

Spike tangled with Willow's body back at the burnt down warehouse once again. He hadn't wanted to come back here but it was the only place he could think of with the stuff to take care of a woman. Were it night they could have crashed a beauty parlor or clothing store or some other rot but right now Dru's old digs were going to have to do.

Only this tooth and nail fighting over a spot of imposed self care was getting to be a bit much. He wasn't asking for the bint to fall on her knees and thank him for this. He just wanted to wash off her wounds and get her into something less ratty before they went hunting later when the sun set. Still the damn fledge wouldn't listen to him. She bucked and writhed and the only reason he had managed to get any of her clean was due to his superior strength and age.

Willow snarled and scratched at the other vampire mercilessly while he worked on her. She hadn't complained when he stripped her down to her underwear. Just sat complacent on the bed and moved as he requested with his hands. Only when he brought out a bucket of soapy water and wet cloth did she become angry. Every brush of the rough material he forced on her took away more of the comforting smell of blood that bathed her.

Spike had mixed feelings about not having taken off his duster. On one hand it was blocking all of his girl's slashes and bites that were meant for him. On the other hand it was taking all the slashes and bites that were meant for him. The repair work on all this damaged leather was going to cost him a pretty penny when all was said and done. He was just thinking about where he was going to find someone who still did that kind of detail work when- 

"Bloody hell woman!" A sharp pain laced through him as the young vampire's lashing finally caught skin. Willow's movements stopped, suddenly still as death. Spike's chest Rose and fell in the moment. Unneeded breaths were working to calm him down as strange emotions stirred up. 

Willow stared at the line of blood pooling up from broken skin. It ran from his ear to jawline and filled the stale air with it's coppery scent. Green eyes drifted from the dark color to catch Spike's own. As if mirroring him she let her own chest rise. Spike gulped back his saliva as his childe's visage shifted. 

She leaned forward to lick up the trail, caught in the feeling Spike let her. And when she inevitably bit down into his neck he felt himself shutter. He dropped the cloth and brought his damp hand to cup her head to him as she pulled.

When later she lay saited over the sheets he once shared with his own sire he finally came back to his senses. He reached for the now cooled water to finish cleaning her dirtied skin and bloodstained face. Once done the vampire rose and stepped over to the makeshift closet. Looking it over for something suitable he pulled out a long and simple satin nightgown with only minimal soot marks. As he slipped it over her he shifted slightly in her sleep making him pause. One rough thumb brushed over her smooth cheek to which she pressed into his hand like a cat.

Spike sighed and sat beside her on the edge of the bed. His hand still gently caressing her form. He knew there was no fixing the tangled hair while she slept. Many sleepless days coaxing Drusilla through nightmares and visions taught him to let sleeping vampires lie. He only hoped that Red would be a little calmer come nightfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through a lot of revisions before I felt like I had Dru and Buffy's interaction how I wanted it. 
> 
> Sorry it took so long.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings for this one. Mostly dealing with the aftermath of some of the crazy things I've been putting Joss's beloved characters through.
> 
> Went through and fix what I realized were rampant mistakes all through this chapter. Very sorry, probably should have a beta but oh well. Next chapter just needs a bit of review before I post it so it will probably be up in a few days. Definitely before the week's end.
> 
> If it wasn't clear not a lot of actual time is passing in this story and I don't intend it to. There will likely be only 8 or 9 days by the story's conclusion. Take that as you will.

"Jeez Cordy, slow down." His wheelchair rattled as it was jerked around the corner of the hospital hallway. "Damaged goods here." 

He wished that he was walking. Or that she was driving him around with at least some of the respect she gave her daddy's car.

"Forgive me if I'm sick of this place." She said with a bite and another jerking movement of the chair. "We've been stuck in here for days." 

It wasn't that he needed the wheelchair, but that hospital policy required him not to stand until he was out of here. They had already bent the rules to let Cordy take him instead of one of the orderlies. 

_ Poor guy will probably have nightmares about that “conversation”. _

"And I'm with you." Xander agreed. If he never saw the scrubbed up chemical smelling interior of a hospital again it would be too soon. Still, he kept his voice light and joking even as the rattling movements made his headache breach the limits of the industrial painkillers. "Just saying that if you keep driving this reckless I'll end up with another no expense paid week at the most expensive and least comfortable hotel in Sunnydale."

Xander had started chuckling to himself when the wheelchair pulled to an abrupt stop before the elevators. Cordelia came around the side and smashed the elevator call button with far too much force. Apparently it didn't register to her that the button was already lit.

"Would it kill you to say thank you?" She suddenly yelled at him. Xander's first reaction was not to respond but to look around for who was about to see this inevitable train wreck. A quick check had him notice two people whispering and pointing towards the stairs. He recognized them as the parents of another teen in the pediatrics wing. She had been diagnosed with 'rapid onset anemia'. One of the many code names he was now able to recognize for vampire attack. 

The girl was lucky not to be dead. She had bite marks on her arms and neck and even up her legs. Despite trying to keep a rein on his wandering eyes, he had seen pretty high up those legs. Hospital gowns don't do much to protect your privacy and his hormone addled mind was hardwired to look. 

"Hello-o, Earth to Xander!" Cordelia dominated his attention again with a waved hand in his face. They had apparently moved into the elevator while he was in his head and now the doors were opening up to the lobby.

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  _ She's still going on about this 'thank you' thing. _

"Here" She continued. "I'll even help you with the words: 'Thank you Cordelia for taking it upon yourself to selflessly accept responsibility for my well-being." Her voice affected this awed tone that he could only assume he was supposed to emulate. "You truly are the most generous and beautiful person on Earth. I am so grateful to have you in my life.'"

"Yes," He answered her, annoyance tumbling out in his choice of response. "Thank you for chasing away the poor nurse whose job it was to wheel me to the door so that you could replace him and almost get me killed. Again." 

He scowled, half at the pain in his head and half at the pain he was talking to. Yeah, maybe he was being a brat but she wouldn't leave him alone. Every time he woke up she was there. Big brown eyes looking at him, fussing over him. The  _ only _ pair of eyes that had bothered to come see him at all.

They were finally at the door now so Xander started to push up from the chair and walk the rest of the way to the car. He was steady on his feet when he noticed something. Cordelia was simultaneously spotting him and responding to his earlier comment. He heard none of it.

"Cordy, isn’t... Isn't that Giles' car?"

She followed Xander's gaze to the ER entrance of the hospital just in time to see Giles rush out of the driver’s side and stand behind an ambulance as the back doors were opening. She barely had time to see let alone make sense of the situation before her boyfriend reacted.

"Oh god.” Xander whispered. “Buffy!" He took off at a run towards the emergency entrance with his girlfriend hot on his heels.

"Xander stop!" Cordelia shouted after him. Panic was seeping into her already concerned voice. "You're supposed to be taking it easy!" 

Running after him she thanked herself for remembering to wear sensible shoes. Hospitals were no place for heels. In a darker corner of her mind she cursed her heart becoming involved with someone who had an affinity for injuries and danger.

Hearing his name shouted behind him Giles took his eyes off the paramedics who were hurrying Oz into the hospital by stretcher. He found himself cleaning his glasses and wondering just what to say as a familiar brunet came barreling towards him. Somehow in the mess of events he had completely forgotten that Xander was still in the hospital, let alone due to be released today. With things as they were he hadn't visited the child once. He always did try to make a better effort than that.

When the boy did finally reach him he leaned over panting, hands on his knees and sickly pale. "What… Buff…" He tried speaking between breaths. Xander grimaced and clutched his head in his hands with a groan.

Now deliberating how to help, on top of how and how much he tell his charge's friend the events of the last few days, his hands worked more vigorously on polishing his left lens.

"Jesus Xander!" The outburst signaled the sudden appearance of another troublesome teenager. She wrapped her arms around Xander and moved him over to a nearby bench. The girl was short of breath herself but not near as incapacitated. Giles slipped his spectacles back on and followed them over but stayed standing as the reprimanding continued.

"One step out the door you go running off at a sprint. Less than ten minutes ago they told you no strenuous activity! What are you a goldfish?"

"But it's Buffy! She's hurt!" Xander rebuked. The boy seemed more himself now. With the one exception of a hand still pressed against his forehead.

"And a fat lot of good you could do to help her even if you weren't hurt." Giles could hear the softness and concern under her anger even if the other teen didn't. "Seriously Xander you have got to get over this Buffy obsession. If I didn't know any better-"

Pointedly Giles cleared his throat to give him a moment's reprieve from the couple's spat. There was at least one thing he could do and that was clear up whatever misconceptions seem to have arisen. "Far as I know Buffy is just fine."

Cordelia's immediate reaction was to hit Xander in the arm. "See?" 

Xander shot her an angry look but didn't answer. He furrowed his brow in concern as his hand shifted from his head to caress the new point of impact. 

Staring at him the boy asked: "What are you doing here then?" 

_ Of course the boy had to be frustratingly intuitive at the moment. _

Noticing a missed smudge on his lense Giles slipped the spectacles off his nose again and scrubbed at the mark. He tried to ignore the remark as Xander scoffed under his breath. “Won’t be any glass left to clean if you keep at it much longer.”

"Well," Giles started. He was choosing not to return his glasses to his nose now if only out of spite. "It seems Willow has gotten loose. By all rights it seems Oz has become her first victim."

Xander's jaw unhinged itself as his ears betrayed him. Headache and arm pain mostly faded, he stuck his finger in his ear and dug out the bit of wax build up he found there. 

"Being that the sense you just made was a sum total of zero, I must not be hearing things right."

The boy looked questioningly to his girlfriend who seemed as lost as he did. It occurred to Xander then that if she had been with him all this time then she hadn't been at school, or at Scooby meetings, at the mall or at the Bronze with those airhead sheep she called friends. She was as out of the loop as he was. He set it on the back burner as something to consider later. 

"Figures I'd have some issues." Xander kept going. "What with the whole head surgery and all." He gestured at the bandage on the back of his head. "Could I get you to repeat that?"

He watched as Giles sighed and placed his glasses back on. That was the look of a man resigned, and that didn’t bode well for whatever he was about to be told.

"It seems Willow didn't return as unscathed as we previously thought. She has in fact, at least for the time being, become a vampire."

_-_-_-_-_-_

Angel perked up from his book in the open and partially sunlit concrete mansion. He may have been mistaken but it sounded like a door closing on the lower level. Being mindful of keeping the page he set the novel down and slowly rose, moving as quietly as possible towards the stairwell. There was tunnel access in the basement for emergencies but hardly anyone knew of it. The only ones would be himself, Drusilla and… Spike. His teeth clenched at the thought of his troublesome grandchilde. 

_ Screw up probably came back to yet again blame his problems on anyone but himself. _

Angel smiled. The idea of putting the bleached vampire in his place was possibly the one thing his soul and demon could agree on.

Rising warm feelings from imagining the catharsis of his fist crashing into Spike's jaw turned icy as he heard a hauntingly melodic voice trail up from the dark. At first he couldn't catch the words. He only heard the peak of louder notes. But as the sound grew closer, so did the clarity grow.

"...may the red rose live alway"

A song he knew well. As entrancing to him as it was old. Not quite as old as himself granted, but old enough to be a classic.

"To smile upon earth and sky"

Poetic and elegant in its message. He wished that was soothing. Unfortunately that was exactly the type of sweetness Angelus had enjoyed twisting. 

"Why should the beautiful ever weep?

The same sweet innocence he had killed in the woman who was now making her way up the stairs towards him. The one ghost of his past that could do more than haunt him.

Why should the beautiful-"

Drusilla chose not to sing the last word. She was face to face now with her lover, tormentor, murderer, father, sire. She stared daggers at him, both revelling in his presence and disgusted by it. It was only seconds, though it felt like ages, by the time the last word of the song left her mouth. All softness was gone from her tone.

"-die." 

The word encompassed the entire weight of guilt in Angel's chest. If anyone had a right to hold a grudge on what he had done as Angelus, it was Dru.

She cocks her head to the side. “What? No hello kiss for princess?”

“What do you want Dru?”  _ Better to keep things business. Get her out of Sunnydale and away from Buffy as soon as possible. _ He watched as she stuck her bottom lip out in a pout and he felt his strength waver for a second.

She must have noticed something because she dropped the pout and stepped around him to the couch. He turned with her and saw the smirk rise on her face as she settled in the spot where he was only moments before. 

“Can’t a girl simply visit her daddy?” Faux innocence in her lilting voice.

He matched her softness with stone. “You know you shouldn’t be here. The slayer will track you down.”

She waved a hand. “We had our welcome party just fine thank you." A frown. "I don't think she liked her present though.”

His thoughts raced as Drusilla pondered.  _ They already fought? _ He looked over Dru hurriedly for any marks and barely found any. His blood grew cold. Cold enough to freeze a living human.

_ No. She didn’t. Buffy can’t be dead.  _

_ She’s my redemption, my destiny.  _

_ I should have been there.  _

_ I should be there now. _

Noticing his rising anxiety Dru took pity on her sire. “Don’t fret, daddy dearest. I only took a peak. Still has a pretty squishy mind all warm and working.”

He slumped in relief and dropped down onto a chair.

“But wasn’t I surprised at the gems that I did find.” He looked across at her to find her eyes glossed over. “Our little girl took a trip she did. All tossed and frightened.” She crumples her face up in a disgusted frown. “Doesn’t look as nice as it used to. Had no piano-forte or sunshiny garden to avoid.” She continued talking nonsense. “No place for a little girl, raw baby fresh from the womb. Lovely ladies and pretty doilies, music playing out of key.” The last part was almost sung and as she finished her eyes were suddenly pinning him to the chair. 

And that was when the ramblings made sense to him. The french abbey.

L'abbaye de Bonneval, the asylum. 

Back when Darla had finally had enough so he chucked his childe off to the loony bin to give his lover a reprieve. There was no William then, nothing to calm her wild moods. It twisted his thoughts up in knots. 

_ What trip could Dru be talking about? Buffy was never in an asylum. Maybe she took a field trip to France? No it doesn't track. Buffy told him that she had never seen most of the states, let alone Europe. _

“Right religious they were.” Drusilla said. She stood and started to stalk towards him. “Like I was once.”  _ Not good. _ “Cross in the hands isn’t the comfort it used to be.” Dru paused and drew a bloody mockery of a crucifix over exposed skin at his collar. It stung slightly but nothing like an actual holy symbol. 

For a second she lost attention in the now, lost in the image she drew. “I wonder if she can still hold comfort in the star?”

He grabbed at her wrists in an instinct not unlike his time as Angelus. With a snap she was staring into his eyes again. A dangerous smile to match the intense gaze. “Did daddy miss me?”

-_-_-_-_-_-

Willow woke feeling more rested than she had in days. Soft and heavy covers were tucked up to her chin, just the way she liked it. A gentle warm light tickled her eyelids but it wasn't bright enough to have interrupted her sleep. It had been a good idea staying at Buffy's. Her dreams weren't the best but knowing she was safe had let her get the rest she needed, however uneasy.

She shifted in the bed curling deeper into the blankets. She was so comfortable. She wanted to close her eyes for a little longer and drift back to sleep. 

Nose pressed into the bed she caught a whiff of old smoke that she hadn't expected. 

"Feeling better Red?"

Willow opened her eyes and was surprised to see Spike crouched at eye level by the bedside. His hand reached for her hair and she recoiled. - _ Or not? _ \- Willow expected to but while his fingers lightly combed through her bed head, she just laid there. The motion of his hand was both disturbing and relaxing. 

_ Maybe it's disturbing that I find it relaxing? I must still be dreaming. _

Dream Spike's eyes followed his fingers As he twined them between lockes of her hair. He looked at her with such tenderness that she might think he cared for her if she didn't know better.

After the dream didn't progress for a few moments Willow decided to try to direct it herself. "Spike?"

"Yes pet?" He responded, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle.

"Why…" She wanted to ask what had happened, or why she was back here again, or where Buffy was, or if Xander was okay. There were so many things she wanted to know. Yet what she asked was none of those things. "Why does my stomach hurt?"

Spike sighed and drew his hand back. Willow refused to admit she grieved its loss. "Prolly all that werewolf blood you had." He completely missed it when her face palled, and if he didn't he attributed it to worry over eating something rotten. He couldn't see it as the realization it actually was. 

Spike waved a hand in her direction as he stepped away, shrugging the matter off. "Don't worry about it. Bit like spicy food s'all. Give you a little touch of indigestion but in the long run a taste of wolf won't hurt you. They're still too human for that."

Willow felt like she was going to be sick.  _ Oz _ . Oz was dead and it was all her fault. She ate him.  _ Ate  _ him. Kissing Xander had nothing on the guilt of  _ eating your own boyfriend. _ That was if this was all real and not a crazy dream. 

_ Ugh, who am I kidding? Even dreaming this type of thing is disgusting. _

She was a horrible cursed creature that didn't deserve to live. Especially didn't deserve the sweet feeling of his blood running down her throat. He had tasted so sweet and so full of love and now that was inside her, warming her up from the inside and-  _ no no no no no! _

Willow was distracted from her thoughts when Spike hopped up on the bed and shifted to sit beside her. It was grounding having him so close. She hated herself for feeling calmer with him there. This was William the Bloody, a bloodthirsty monster. Her thoughts froze in their tracks, repeating the feelings of only a few seconds ago.

_ With what I did... Am I nothing more than a monster myself? _

Everything was so confusing. Spike was treating her well so she wasn't about to complain about being his captive again. Not yet anyway. Willow was going to let him do what he wanted for the time being. So when he encouraged her onto his lap she moved with him. They faced the same direction, her back to his chest.

He continued on with his answer, happy to fill the silence in the dark room. "Sire blood should help, even you out a little. Though a cap of Pepto won't hurt either." 

Willow felt a gentle tug on her scalp and realized that he had started brushing her hair. If things weren't weird before, they definitely were now. He kept talking while she started trying to get her bearings. For the first time since she woke (or didn't wake. She still was less than convinced she wasn't dreaming) Willow thought to look down at herself. She found herself in a long old fashioned nightgown. Nothing she owned, and nothing she would have picked out given the option.

_ Yet another point towards this being Dreamland. _

Spike continued talking and brushing through her hair. "Could hardly have even a one-sided conversation fore you took half a pint from me. Surprised you stopped really. Expected I'd have to rip you off but at hardly a taste you nodded right off for some good kip."

Eventually he finished and leaned over to set the brush to the side. Willow found herself slightly disappointed for it to be over so soon. She made to stand but Spike wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him before she could move.  With him so close she could feel the needless rise and fall of his chest and hear the movement of air by her ear. She still didn't know what was going on or what he wanted from her so she hesitantly asked another question. 

"What happened to me?" 

"Mean sides the obvious?" Willow said nothing in response so he continued with a sigh, pulling away from her slightly and turning her to face him. "Can't really say since I haven't done this fore now. Imagine being round the Slayer so young didn't help matters. She gets my blood going and I've more experience with her type than vamps twice my age." 

His eyes went to some far away place and she realized with a heavy heart that he was thinking about killing another slayer. It was conflicting. There was a basal tug inside her. Telling her to run into the sun right now and drag her best friend's corpse to Spike if it would make him happy. Rationally it made no sense, she didn’t want Buffy gone. Her stomach flipped uneasily at the thought of her friend at Spikes mercy. Yet that same idea in her mind radiated a sense of pride. Spike would care, he would praise her, ruffle her hair, tell her how good she did. 

_ Wait… That's not right. Why would I care what Spike thinks? _

The subject of her thoughts kept talking after his brief daydream. His eyes still distant but not quite as lost. "Lotsa fledges that turn mindless bloodsuckers when faced with that much simulus." He smiled then. "Her smell, her power. It all just radiates off her like a sparkler." He chuckled at some joke she didn't catch. "Good simile that, slayer as a sparkler. Slayer burns bright and intense and then suddenly she's gone. Snuffed out like all the other girls before her. Poetic even."

Willow wrinkled her nose. "Two of those were your fault."

He puffed up at that with what could only be pride, confusing her mixed emotions further. "I'll have you know those were two of the best slayers I've seen." His eyes went to that far away place again. "And I'm still planning on making it three."

As confused as she was, Willow couldn't stop the emotions that spilled out. She turned more fully in his grip and pounded at his chest in indignation. "Buffy doesn't deserve to die!"

He glared at her then and that was downright terrifying. Somehow worse than when she was completely human. His grip around her tightened. "Yeah?" He bit out. "And we do?"

Willow had to think about it, and at that moment she couldn’t deny it any longer. She understood why Spike cared and knew why he mattered to her. 

_ He killed me.  _

It should scare her, terrify her to be face to face with the creature that drained her. But in a weird way she loved him. Not romantically. Definitely not romantically. She didn't want him like that and she wasn’t ready for it even if she did. She wanted Oz to be her first time. 

_ Oh god Oz.  _

She shook her head briefly to wipe away the grief. It wasn’t going to help her right now. This wasn't anything like she had expected of vampires. Nothing like Xander’s description of Jesse. She still felt like herself. New urges and desires but still her, still Willow.  _ A version of Willow who did a terrible, completely unforgivable thing. _

Spike watched as uncertainty played out over the girl’s features. She looked so much like he did all those years ago, trying to find a balance between man and beast. Eventually she shook her head and he took it as an answer. He made her understand, they didn't deserve to die simply for existing. But then she looked up at him with watery eyes and his dead heart went out to her for a moment. Her response was soft and filled with loathing. He had to strain to hear even with advanced hearing, and it cut like glass when he made out the single word.

"Maybe?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ah May the Red Rose Live Alway" is a very pretty song. You can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ZdV1m0mdUE  
I imagine that sung by Drusilla it is much creepier than it actually sounds.


End file.
